Dawns of Yesterday
by MadameCissy
Summary: It is not the living we should fear. It is the dead. Six years after the Final Battle the unthinkable happens and Hermione finds herself at the dawn of a new war and faced with a choice she thought she would never have to make. Hermione/Bellatrix.
1. Prologue

**Summary:** It is not the living we should fear. It is the dead. 6 years after the Battle of Hogwarts the unthinkable happens and Hermione finds herself not only in the midst of another war but also in the midst of conflicting emotions and a choice she thought she would never have to make.

**Pairing:** Hermione/Bellatrix and/or Narcissa/Hermione. I am not quite sure where this story is going to go eventually so I am leaving both options open.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own a single character or any original storyline, plot or item created in the Potter verse. Everything you recognise belongs to the amazingly talented JK Rowling. New plot belongs to me.

**Rating:** T but might change to M in later chapters.

**A/N:** This story has quite a few influences from Greek Mythology. I have researched some of it and the story of Apollo and Hyacinth is an actual myth. The Ruby Hyacinth I write about in later chapters is neither a myth nor a legend and has been solely created for this story. Any references to other Greek Mythology and gods can be found with the help of all knowing Google.

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**Chapter 1****  
**_Prologue_

It was late. Security guard Thomas Davidson was making his usual rounds through the British Museum. In the yellow beam from his torch created strange shadows, even stranger than some of the exhibits displayed behind perplex glass, along the walls and made him feel as if all watching eyes followed his every step. He had only been working here for a few weeks, covering the nightshift. It was the shift nobody else wanted. Hourly rounds through the different rooms and the remainder of the time his eyes were glued to tiny TV screens displaying the scenes captured by the CCTV.

He held still and allowed his eyes to drift up along the full length of a large white marble statue. What seemed to stare back at him was the almost angelic face of a young man. Even the emotionless stone had managed to capture an astonishing beauty. Thomas frowned as his eyes found the small plaque describing the marble man. _Adonis' beauty was legend and he became the lover of Aphrodite after she was wounded by Cupid. She sheltered him and entrusted him to Persephone to keep him safe. Persephone was also taken by Adonis' beauty and refused to give him back to Aphrodite. Zeus settled the feud between the two goddesses; Adonis was to spend one third of the year with each goddess and one third wherever he chose. He chose to spend two thirds with Aphrodite._

Thomas shook his head. Ever since the exposition about ancient Greek Gods and Goddesses had been set up, he had found himself wandering around the various statues, paintings and pieces of rock that claimed to belong to temples of Athena, Zeus and Apollo. He would read the plaques and find himself baffled over the complexity of history. Behind safety glass rested the pieces of jewellery, cups and plates that bore images of ancient Greece and other items recovered from burial sites, fallen temples and locations so far away Thomas did not dare think about them. He had never once set foot outside of England.

At the age of twenty five he had hoped to be in a different place in his life. A nice degree, a good job, a nice girl, maybe married her even. Instead, he had dropped out of university after his first year and ended up working at a scrap yard for a while. Hung out with the wrong friends, got arrested after getting caught up in a fight after a football game and only just managed to escape court. His parents still lived on one of the poorest, roughest council estates in London and even though he had moved out, the street where Thomas now rented his bedsit was little better than where he had come from.

He turned around when an unexpected noise echoed through the hall like a bullet out of a gun. It was a popping noise, but unlike any noise Thomas had ever heard before. The light from his torch danced off the walls and weary eyes desperately darted through the darkness in an attempt to locate the reason of the sound. Realising his hands were shaking, Thomas took a deep breath.

"H-hello?" he called and his voice seemed to carry on for miles in the darkness. "Jeffrey, is that you?"

Jeffrey was the man working here during the night as well. The two of them were the only people in the building. Well, the live ones anyway. People did not include the six Egyptian mummies that were located in one of the other rooms for the Ancient Egypt exposition that would open next week. Jeffrey was considered a care taker of sorts. Thomas never asked why Jeffrey worked during the nights.

"Jeffrey?" Thomas called again but there was no answer. Clutching his torch he traced back his steps and walked back to where he had come from mere minutes ago. He paid no attention to the partial trident that was depicted as belonging to a statue of Poseidon. His yellow beam had fixed on a dark spot between two large glass cupboards which were home to pieces of jewellery. Brown eyes narrowed.

"Hello?"

His heart skipped a beat when the shadows moved and a tall, cloaked figure stepped out from between the cupboards. Thomas felt the cold wash over him and before he could even open his mouth to scream, the bright green flash of light had hit him square in the chest and his young body slumped down to the floor. The torch slipped from his fingers and clattered down onto the floor. It broke on impact and the light died the same instant Thomas did, shrouding the room in darkness. All that could be heard next was the sound of breaking glass.

~()~

It was a cold and dreary night and as he stepped out of the museum building, the cloaked figure felt his breath being stolen by the bitterly cold December wind. It had been so easy to walk in here tonight, to steal what he had so desperately desired. For years he had read about the item he now possessed, believing like all others it was a myth, a mystery. Until the announcement came it had been found, lying somewhere deep under piles of dirt. It had changed everything. And now he stood in the London night, gazing out into the city as it slept, before closing his eyes and calling up the image of his next destination. With a faint popping noise the cloaked shadow disappeared, swallowed up into the night.

When he reappeared he was no longer in London. In fact, he was quite far away from the nation's capital and its enchanting lights and seats of power. He found himself standing outside the rusty metal gates of a small and overgrown cemetery on the outskirts of a village so small it did not appear on any map. It lay in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the Scottish Highlands, and not even the villagers seemed aware of its existence. They buried their dead elsewhere. A small, narrow mountain path led up to the small burial site. A path so overgrown and impassable no one bothered anymore.

He pushed against the gates and they creaked as they opened. Withered leaves had collected against the over grown gravestones, names erased by the hands of time and the wraths of nature. Long gone were any memories that lived here. He carried on, his pace brisk and determined. He did not feel the bitter cold wind as it cut his skin. Temperatures had dropped to well below zero this high in the mountains. He felt nothing but the excitement in his blood. His heart pounded against his ribcage with every step he took, bringing him closer to where he needed to be.

The barren tree stood tall and proud, yet almost unnatural, like a silent marker. The frozen ground around it covered in rotting leaves and layers of frost. No headstones marked this grave and yet he knew it was here. He had been here many times, in the dark. It had taken him some time to find it and along the way he had resulted to any method he knew. But it had proven not easy to find a Ministry fool stupid enough to allow himself to be Imperiused these days. But the Auror he had encountered in the Leaky Cauldron one night, by chance, had been too drunk to know different. By the time dawn broke he had woken up with a hangover from hell and no memory how he had ever made it to Scotland. It had been cause for the Ministry to sharpen its "Do not drink and Apparate" policy for its employees. But the damage had been done. They just didn't know it yet. But by the time the sun would climb over the horizon, they would. And they would wish morning had never broken.

He dropped to his knees, his cloak rustling as it made contact with the leaves, and his fingers made contact with the frozen soil. From his pocket he took his wand, the same tool he had used to murder the unsuspecting security guard back at the museum. It was collateral damage; a sacrifice he was willing to make. All was fair in love and war. And this was war.

Aiming his wand at the soil the incantations fell from his lips so smoothly. He had practised, memorised, word after word. He had prepared himself for what he was about to do. He watched, is eyes widening in the red gloom created by his wand, how the earth underneath him began to split until it revealed not one but two dark wooden caskets, resting side by side. In the reddish light, Walden MacNair's face seemed to glow in a haunting, horrific manner and eager fingers cherished the dark wood.

"Master and servant to be reunited once more."


	2. What Was Lost

**Chapter 2**

_"Something's wrong when you regret, things that haven't happened yet."_

Hermione Granger longingly gazed out of the window of her office. The first snowflakes were falling from the dark grey sky, filling people's faces with both joy and dread. She watched as outside people hurried around like ants, desperate to complete their Christmas shopping during their lunch hour. It was what the city of London was like; always alive, always busy with people hurrying to travel from one place to another. Most days Hermione found she loathed having to be one of those commuters, as she chose to travel to work the Muggle way by squeezing herself between arrogant business men and picture perfect business women on the tube, but today she wished she was anywhere but at her oak desk, about to be swallowed up by rolls of parchment.

She looked up when a heavy knock roused her from her thoughts and ran her fingers through her thick brown ringlets before calling the visitor in. She corrected her chair and picked up a quill, as if to create the illusion she had not just succumbed to daydreaming. Her hazel eyes widened when Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped into her office and she noticed how he securely closed the door behind him, uttering a spell as she did so. She watched the golden sparks as the lock seemed to melt. The Minister of Magic did not wish to be disturbed.

"Minister," Hermione greeted Kingsley, choosing their formal way of speaking to each other when between these four office walls. When she met his gaze she instantly knew he was not here for official business and she curiously cocked her head. "How may I help you today?"

"Hermione," Kingsley started, removing whatever formalities there still were between them and his dark eyes took in the sight of the brunette behind her desk. Hermione was the youngest Head of Department ever assigned to the Ministry but Kingsley could not find a single fault in the way the former Gryffindor ran the Department for Safeguarding of Magical Artefacts. As one third of the Golden Trio he knew Hermione was greatly admired and respected throughout the Ministry. Kingsley was one of her greatest admirers himself; what he admired most was that Hermione did not wish to be admired. She merely wished to be judged for her performance and the standard of her work.

"Can we talk?"

Hermione detected a hint of worry in the Minister's voice. Kingley's normal booming voice almost seemed subdued. She stood up from her chair and walked around her desk. She made a casual hand gesture and a door at the left wall, almost hidden between two massive bookcases, swung open and revealed the entrance to a smaller, more homely sitting area. Kingsley followed Hermione to the more informal side of her office and sat down in one of the two large arm chairs that stood by the fireplace. He watched how Hermione sat down in the opposing chair and folded her hands. He smiled to himself. Both the arrangement of her private study as well as her mannerism displayed how much she had learnt from her mentor Minerva McGonagall.

"What can I do for you, Kingsley?" Hermione asked and gratefully sat back in her chair. She liked coming in here, though she did not get many chances during the day. But the small sitting room reminded her of Hogwarts.

Kingsley swallowed and pressed his fingertips together. "Hermione, we have a serious problem."

"If this is about what happened during the last meeting, I have already offered my apologies for Miss Johnston's unacceptable behaviour and I have imposed new regulations that restrict the use of spells within the department," Hermione said quickly, feeling the scarlet creep onto her cheeks. She did not like to think back to the last major meeting she attended only to witness one of her staff giving a strange interpretation of a chicken after having been hexed by a co-worker.

"This is not about the meeting, Hermione," Kingsley said but smiled nonetheless. "Though I dare say that was one of the better amusements I have seen of late." His voice trailed off but when his eyes found Hermione's he took a deep breath. "Are you aware of the Ancient Greece exposition currently being held at the British Museum?"

Hermione nodded. She had read about it in the paper and had been excited for days. When she had mentioned it to Ginny, the redhead had reluctantly agreed to accompany her. At seven months pregnant there weren't a lot of things Ginny Potter liked to do these days. "Yes, I am actually. I was planning on going to see it later this week."

"You might want to reschedule," Kingsley said and Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "One of the items on display was a ruby red hyacinth."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry, I am not following."

Kingsley slowly nodded. "How familiar are you with Greek Mythology?"

Hermione had to admit she knew about as much as most other people. It was one of the subjects that had intrigued her for many years but she had simply never had the chance to read up on them. Her questioning eyes rested on Kingsley and the Minister of Magic let his eyes wander around the room for a moment before fixing on the small window. The snowflakes were getting bigger outside and had begun to cover the world in a crystal white blanket.

"Hyacinth was a divine hero from the Greek Mythology. The legend says that Hyacinth and Apollo were playing with a discus. In a twist of fate, the wind god Zephyrus blew the discus off course, as to injure and kill Hyacinth. He was jealous because Hyacinth preferred the radiant archery god Apollo. When Hyacinth died, Apollo didn't allow Hades, god of the underworld, to claim the boy; rather, he made a flower, the hyacinth, from his spilled blood. The tears of Apollo stained the newly formed flower's petals with _ai, ai_; the sign of his grief," Kingsley concluded and Hermione looked at him in fascination.

"I still fail to see the connection," she admitted.

"The legendary Ruby Hyacinth has been spoken about all the way through magical history. It is said to have been born from Apollo's flower itself and it is rumoured to hold the power to raise the dead. It was long believed to be a myth, like the Hallows were once believed to be a myth. But last year, during an excavation in Greece, not far from Sparta, a withered plant was discovered and transported to the British Museum, right here in London, as part of an exhibition about Greek Gods and their legends. The Ministry has been eagerly observing it, being more aware of its heritance than Muggles. Last night, it was stolen."

"So you're saying that the flower found in Greece, the one that was stolen last night, was related to the flower Apollo created to mourn Hyacinth?" Hermione clarified for herself and when Kingsley nodded and she sat back in her chair. "Then why did the Ministry not claim it when the news became known?"

"The discovery was made by Muggles. All we could do was watch from a safe distance. They are not as aware of the legend as the Wizarding world, Hermione. The legend of the Ruby Hyacinth is not mentioned anywhere in the mythology because the story is unknown. For centuries the Wizarding world lived separate from Muggles, even then. The legend was known to sorcerers and witches back in the time of the ancient Greek but common Muggles knew nothing of its existence. They believed they had found yet another artefact that once belonged to Apollo when in fact they found a flower that can raise the dead."

Hermione swallowed hard. The only other item she knew about that could raise the dead, for a short amount of time, was in her own possession and was safely kept in a vault only she knew the code to. "Raise the dead? Like the Resurrection Stone?"

"The Resurrection Stone brings back the dead only for a short time, remember? They return as clearly defined spirits who vanish as soon as the stone is released," Kingsley said and Hermione nodded. Harry had explained it to her after the War but it seemed so long ago. "The Ruby Hyacinth is said to be able to raise the body of the dead and provides a portal to the underworld, summoning the trapped souls to reunite them with their bodies. The legend states that in the past people were brought back and lived for years, alongside their loved ones. As the flower disappeared the stories were believed to be myths. But now..."

Hermione felt a freezing sensation creep into her chest and shook her head. There was a hint of hope in her voice as the faces of those she still missed every day flooded into her mind. "You mentioned loved ones."

"Whoever took the flower is most definitely not intending to be reunited with lost loved ones" Kingsley said and stood up. His eyes briefly darted to the window. The snow was falling quicker and quicker, rapidly turning into a blizzard. "Come with me. And take your warmest cloak. You'll need it."

~()~

It had been freezing cold in London but when Hermione Apparated into the Scottish Highlands she found herself positively freezing. She thought the incantation in her head and her cloak and clothes instantly began to radiate heat from the inside out. She stood at the bottom of a small hill, with a narrow and snow covered hill leading up to the top. Kingsley had appeared beside her and she shot him a questioning look. Snowflakes had entangled themselves in her bushy brown hair and when Kingsley began walking with firm, brisk steps Hermione followed, feeling her feet sink ankle deep into the snow.

Once she reached the top of the hill Hermione realised she and Kingsley were not alone. Three more cloaked people, their shoulders covered in a thick layer of snow, stood surrounding something Hermione could not see. Kingsley held the rusty old gate open for her and Hermione stepped past him, onto the small cemetery. For a moment she was taken back to Godric's Hollow on Christmas Eve during their search for the Horcruxes. It had been just her and Harry and she right at this moment got that same hauntingly empty sensation she had back then.

"McAlister?" Kingsley boomed and one of the three figures spun around, nearly tripping over his own feet. The other two remained motionless and Hermione approached as curiosity got the better of her. She vaguely recognised the Auror Kingsley was talking to, but not enough to know his first name. As she walked up to him she picked up his distinct Scottish accent. The young man turned to acknowledge her and when he realised who he was looking at his cheeks instantly turned a deep shade of red.

"Drawing attention to yourself yet again, Mione?" spoke one of the other two individuals and Hermione's head whipped up at the sound of the young man's voice.

Bright green eyes behind a pair of better fitted spectacles, messy dark hair and a distinct lightning bolt scar across his forehead. Harry Potter had grown older, and had bought himself a better pair of glasses, but other than that he had changed very little. And Hermione was grateful for it. She rushed through the show and hugged him briefly before giving him a stern look.

"Aren't you supposed to be nearer to home?" she reminded him of his wife's situation and Ginny's insisting Harry remained in London at all times, even though the baby wasn't due for another eight weeks. "In case your wife needs you?"

"Mum's around. If I were Harry I'd split too," spoke the third figure and only now that they removed the hood they had been wearing did Hermione recognise the young man as Ronald Weasley. She swallowed hard and glanced at Harry, as if to accuse him for not warning her Ron was here. She glanced over her shoulder at Kingsley but assumed the wizard had little to no idea about the predicament she and Ron had found themselves in a few months after the war had ended. It had also been the end of what most people, including Ron, would have called a relationship. Hermione referred to it as a mistake.

"Ron," Hermione said hesitantly and looked at Harry for help. Before her friend could respond however, Kingsley appeared behind them and briefly took Hermione by the arm to lead her to whatever everybody else had been looking at. As Hermione walked around Harry and Ron she found herself faced with a large gaping hole in the snow covered soil. It was clear it had been dug before the snow had started. The bottom was covered by white crystals and Hermione felt her breath die in the back of her throat. Hazel eyes snapped up to Kingsley.

"Is this what I think it is?" she questioned softly. Her warm breath created clouds in the cold winter air.

Kingsley took a deep breath and his dark eyes were drawn to the hole in the ground. It was as if he was staring into the darkest pits of the earth and something was staring back.

"The legend states that in order for the dead to rise, a blood sacrifice from a relative must be made. This does not literally have to mean blood, but an item such a bone or a hair must be added," he said and his dark eyes searched the faces of Harry, Ron and Hermione. The Trio stood before him, reunited, and yet they looked nothing like the teenagers who had once defeated the Dark Lord. Before him stood three young adults, about to start a whole new life.

Hermione stared down into the pit. Two caskets lay partially covered in snow, violently broken open. Wooden splinters littered the inside of what had once been a double grave. It had been dug deep, as if what had been laid to rest was to be buried for good. The caskets were made of simple, plain wood. No effort had been made to make the bodies' final resting a place a beautiful one. But the caskets were empty. The graves had been unnamed. When her dark eyes snapped up she found Kingsley's gaze resting on her. The words were painful as they left her mouth. "These are the graves of Lord Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange?"

"Tom Riddle's mother was a pure blood witch. Merope Gaunt," Harry said and Hermione wondered whether, right in this moment, he was taken back to his lessons with Dumbledore back at Hogwarts. There was something defensive, almost challenging, about the way Harry spoke to Kingsley; as if he was desperate to deny the truth that had begun to reveal itself before their eyes. Harry's eyes were blazing like Hermione had seen them do in the past. They flickered with anger. "She died just an hour after giving birth to him. She's dead. Nobody knows where her grave is!"

"Harry is right. Until three days ago nobody knew the location of Merope Gaunt's grave. The orphanage were she gave birth to Tom Marvolo Riddle did not keep any records back in those days. They buried their dead as best they could with whatever little means they had," Kingsley said but Hermione suspected whatever little bit of hope Harry had cherished was about to be taken away. "An old caretaker by the name of Joseph Hamilton spent most of his working days at Highgate Cemetery. He knows even the most forgotten corners. Now an old aged pensioner, he still strolls around the cemetery and he was the one who alerted the authorities to a grave robbery. An unmarked grave in one of the oldest parts of the cemetery had been opened, the body inside disturbed. To his surprise the body had barely decayed. The grave dates back to 1926."

"The year Merope Gaunt gave birth to Tom Riddle," Harry breathed and turned around. He walked away from the dug up grave, hands firmly in the pockets of his robe. There was anger in his stride.

Ron's eyes darkened and he stared at Kingsley. "Why didn't you do something then? If you knew the grave belonged to Merope Gaunt?"

"The grave robbery happened the same night as the destruction of ten other graves, the ruining of several flower arrangements and a burglary down the road," Kingsley explained and met Ron's gaze. The ginger Auror in training seemed almost as angry as Harry and Kingsley could not blame him. "Both the authorities and the Ministry believed it to be handiwork of some local youths."

Hermione carefully stepped forward and gazed down at the open caskets, attempting to visualise the cold bodies of Lord Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange trapped between the wooden boards. She imagined the fallen dark wizard with his almost see through skin and snake like features, his red eyes no longer burning with pure hatred and his split tongue no longer protruding from his mouth. The missing nose, giving his face an almost ghost like appearance, had always disturbed her most.

Her hazel eyes darted to the other abandoned casket and she called up the beautiful yet hauntingly terrifying face of Bellatrix Lestrange. The raven haired witch had tortured her, leaving scars Hermione stared at every day when she woke up. Yet she had crept under her skin in a way Hermione had never been able to explain, like a lingering whisper or an endless echo. Unknowingly, Bellatrix had been the reason she and Ron had drifted apart. Imagining her dead body left Hermione feeling horrified.

"Who's got them?" Harry unexpectedly demanded. He had turned around and stared at Kingsley in a way that reminded Hermione of how Harry used to look at Severus Snape. "Who has their bodies? Who is trying to bring back Voldemort?"

Kingsley swallowed. "We suspect it is a former Death Eater. A few avoided Azkaban by disappearing the night of the Battle, after Voldemort had fallen. Not many got away but those who did remain high on the Most Wanted list, as of course you know, Harry. As an Auror you are always on the lookout for some of them. You know the ones of which we speak."

Harry grimaced. "Yes, I know."

"Who knew these graves were here?" Ron asked and Hermione noticed how he looked at her. She averted her gaze. "I thought it was supposed to be a secret known only to you and the Auror Office?" He shot Hermione a questioning look but she shook her head. She hadn't known.

"As you are very well aware the location of the graves was kept a strict secret to prevent it from being disturbed by those who supported Harry or it being turned into a shrine for those who supported Voldemort," Kingsley answered. Hermione admired how calm he was, even now. "I am afraid that if the information was leaked, someone in the Auror Office broke an oath."

Harry flared up. "The Auror Office? You think someone on _our_ side did this?"

Kingsley swallowed hard. "Either they told someone else or they were the ones who split the Earth with magic and took the bodies. I don't like it either, Harry, but I am afraid there is little to no time to waste. It is safe to say that whoever claimed Lord Voldemort's body has taken something from Merope Gaunt's body to resurrect him. But they also took Bellatrix Lestrange's body and she only has two pure blood living relatives left."

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand. "Andromeda."

Ron looked from Harry to Hermione and confirmed their thoughts. "And Narcissa Malfoy."

Kingsley made a broad hand gesture and the pit began to fill itself with snow covered sand, eventually covering up the disturbed graves and empty caskets. Hermione watched solemnly, as if to say a goodbye to something that wasn't really there. It was an attempt to hide something that had resurfaced, together with these open graves and she turned away, knowing there was little she could do to hide it. Kingsley beckoned Harry and Ron to follow him and Hermione was the last to join the small procession leaving the cemetery. When they reached the bottom of the hill Kingsley looked from Harry to Ron and then Hermione. Sadness lingered in his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"Not half as sorry as they'll be," Harry snapped and Hermione glanced at her friend. In that moment she saw the seventeen year old boy who had been so desperate to destroy the Horcruxes and the wizard that had made their world unsafe. And she knew, especially now that he was about to become a father, Harry was as determined to do it again.

"What do we need to do?" Hermione asked carefully.

Kingsley looked around and his voice was low, as if predicting imminent doom. "It is time to bring back the Order of the Phoenix."

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**A/N:** The quote at the start of this chapter is taken from the song "1940" by The Submarines and will serve as an inspiration for the story. My friend, you know who you are. I promised I would use it eventually. It just took me a little longer than I planned.


	3. Missing Walls

**A/N:** I am very glad with the amount of reviews this story has received so far. The errors in the first chapter about the Minerva/Athena mistake have been changed. My broadband is finally working again which means I can update. I have written as far as chapter 7 so will keep updating frequently. I have pretty much decided on the Bellatrix/Hermione pairing. I hope you guys remain intrigued and interested. Thank you for making me so welcome into Potter verse again. ~Cissy

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**Chapter 3**

The Burrow had not changed over the past few years. It had been a long time since Hermione had last been here, though she could not quite remember how long. She stood outside for a while, reminiscing over the times she had spent here with Harry and Ron. They had laughed and cried together, planned their homework and their battle against Voldemort. The house had always seemed crowded. Not a day went by she didn't hear someone else's footsteps echoing off the wooden floors. It seemed empty now. The pile of Wellington boots by the front door had been reduced to just two pairs; one overly floral and one a boring green.

Her heart felt heavy in her chest when she walked up the path to the front door. With every step she remembered walking out of this house the night she left Ron. It had happened here, in his old bedroom. They had been talking about renting a place in London, closer to the Ministry. It had been another fight on yet another night. Another fight in which Ron accused her of being too caught up in her memories. She had answered that the memories was all she had left to which he replied she still had him. She had shouted back that perhaps she did not want him. As her hand made contact with the wooden door she remembered slamming it behind her, after having grabbed her wand but leaving behind her bag. In a twisted vision she imagined it lying on the kitchen table, waiting for her.

The door swung open, revealing the somewhat plump figure of Molly Weasley; wearing one of the colourful aprons over a green skirt and blouse that had once been white. Hermione's gaze drifted up along the red haired woman's shape and found her dark brown eyes. More lines had appeared in her face and Hermione realised for the first time how much Molly Weasley had aged since the end of the war. The last six years had been all but kind to her and now that she laid eyes on her for the first time since walking out, it struck Hermione that at the same time she had changed very little.

"Hermione, how wonderful to see you, dear," Molly greeted the young brunette standing outside and stepped aside, revealing the kitchen. Her voice was warm and inviting and for a moment Hermione was left bewildered. She had half and half expected to be treated as a pariah, judged for leaving Ron. But as she stepped through the door into the warm room she was sucked up into the welcoming family atmosphere the Burrow had always harboured. She turned before walking past Molly Weasley and met the other woman's eyes.

"It is good to see you, Mrs Weasley. I'm afraid it has been way too long," she smiled.

Molly placed a hand on Hermione's arm before closing the door. She shot a final glance out into the night. Darkness had fallen an hour ago and before tonight they had believed the shadows to be safe. Now nobody was sure.

"Looks like it's going to snow," she said absentmindedly and closed the door before turning to Hermione. She eyed the younger woman up from head to toe as if to decide whether she needed extra feeding. The corners of Hermione's mouth curled up when Mrs Weasley muttered something that sounded an awful lot like 'damn youngsters don't even know how to feed themselves' before fetching Hermione a cup of steaming homemade vegetable soup and freshly baked bread and ushering her into the other room.

When Hermione walked into the dining room her eyes lit up. Around the long wooden table and on chairs that did not match together sat a gathering of people she had not seen for a long time. George and Angelina Weasley, the latter pregnant with their second child sat beside Mr Weasley, who was having an animated conversation with his son and daughter-in-law. Next to them sat Bill and Fleur, who had not long given birth to their daughter. Both looked somewhat solemn. Then there were Harry and Ginny. The young redhead was caressing her bump whilst talking to Ron, who sat next to her. Hermione's eyes drifted around the table and she smiled from ear to ear when she discovered Minerva McGonagall, former head of Gryffindor and now Headmistress of Hogwarts and Hermione's mentor. Minerva's emerald green eyes glistened behind her glasses when she watched Hermione enter the room and stood up to greet her.

"Minerva!" Hermione breathed when her former teacher wrapped her arms around her and hugged her. When they let go Hermione looked at the older witch and apologised. "I received your owl but I am afraid I just got too caught up."

Minerva smiled. It was as if she was hearing an echo from her past. "I quite understand Hermione."

There was a heavy banging sound coming from outside and everybody at the table looked up and several people instinctively reached for their wands until Harry stood up, having recognised the distinct sound of heavy footsteps. "That has be Hagrid and Kingsley"

A polite knock on the door was followed my Mrs Weasley nervously opening it, revealing the snow that had begun to fall. The night was dark but Hermione still recognised the massive shape that was Hagrid. Being a half giant meant he took up half the house just on his own and as he stepped into the kitchen he brought in enough snow to build a snow man. He was followed by Kingsley Shacklebolt, who patted Molly Weasley on her shoulder before looking at the person following him. Hermione gasped when she discovered the third person stepping into the kitchen, looking somewhat shy and insecure.

"Andy," Mr Weasley said and Hermione was rudely disturbed from her thoughts and her eyes snapped away from the dark haired woman now entering the dining area. In the full light of the room Andromeda Tonks looked nothing like her sister but for a moment, as she had emerged from the night's darkness, Hermione thought she had seen a ghost. In the dim light of the kitchen Andromeda looked so much like Bellatrix it filled most people with fear, though now that they could see her face and the kind expression in her eyes, she couldn't look any less like her older sister.

Kingsley followed Andromeda into the dining room and Hermione, who was still standing, found her eyes mysteriously drawn back to Andromeda. She had seen her a few times over the years, mainly when they had both visited Harry and Ginny at the same time. She waited until two seats remained and sat down beside the darker haired witch, occasionally glancing at her from the corner of her eye. The resemblance was unmistakable and it intrigued her. Perhaps Hermione was the only person not filled with fright by the memory of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Silence filled the room when Kingsley, who sat at the head of the table, looked around and raised his wand to magically reduce the candle light. The room filled itself with shadows and the anticipation grew, becoming more palpable as the seconds past. It reminded Hermione of the meetings held back at Grimmauld Place and when she looked at Harry and Ron she knew they felt it too. Both looked at her and in the dimmed light they looked seventeen again.

"We all know why we are here," Kingsley said and Hermione realised he had filled everybody in since the moment he had walked into her office and they had stared into the empty graves of Lord Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange. "There is strong evidence someone is attempting to resurrect Lord Voldemort from the dead. His grave and that of Bellatrix Lestrange were found disturbed in the Scottish Highlands two days ago. The theft of the Ruby Hyacinth and the desecration of Merope Gaunt's grave lead the Ministry to believe that whoever is attempting to bring back the Dark Lord knows enough about mythology to succeed. It would appear they have planned this for some time."

"Who are we talking about here?" Ron piped up and Hermione looked at him. "Last I checked Death Eaters were not known for their intelligence." He paused and his eyes briefly found Andromeda, as if to apologise. "Give or take one or two."

"The Most Wanted List contains the names of several Death Eaters who got away after the War," Kingsley said. "But it could very well be someone who never was a Death Eater at all. Who was perhaps too young but supported Voldemort anyway?" His dark eyes rested on Harry.

"Slytherins weren't known for their intelligence either," Harry sneered harshly. He imagined the likes of Draco Malfoy, who had turned out to be a Death Eater after all but yet a weak and cowardice one, Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. The mere thought of them and the fact they had been happy to betray him if they had been able to angered him. Harry's hatred for Slytherins went deeper than most. He shook his head. "None of them would have the nerve of courage to perform such an act."

"It could very well have been someone who wasn't in your year," Ginny added and there were some confirming sounds before Minerva McGonagall broke through the noises with a clear voice.

"After the war teachers and students became weary of Dark magic. Teachers were extra trained to observe students who seemed to show affiliation for the Dark Arts. Trust me when I say I believe no student who has attended Hogwarts after the war would be capable of resurrecting Voldemort. Not a single one of those children came out of the war unharmed. Pretty much all of them lost someone."

Kingsley nodded slowly and Hermione watched how his eyes fixed on Andromeda. "The myth of the Ruby Hyacinth states that a sacrifice from a blood relative is needed to resurrect the dead. They already have whatever they took from Merope Gaunt which means they are focusing on a pure blood ancestry. The location of Tom Riddle's grave is common knowledge and has been used before." Kingsley paused. "In the case of Bellatrix Lestrange, there are two living pure blood relatives, one of which is seated at this table."

"And the other is a cold hearted bitch who resides safely between the walls of Malfoy Manor."

All eyes were on Ron as he spoke those words, judging Narcissa Malfoy, and Hermione felt Andromeda sit up beside her.

"My sister may have made mistakes in the past but there is no reason to judge her like that," she said unexpectedly. Her words resulted in a deafening silence and Hermione glanced at the dark haired witch. Andromeda's brown eyes fixed on Ron, who was defiantly staring back at her and did not look like he was going to rephrase his words. "Unless you have forgotten that in the end her sacrifice caused Harry to live?"

"Is Narcissa Malfoy aware of what is happening at this moment in time?" George asked, touching the subject Kingsley had called the meeting for. There was a sharp intake of breath around the table. The mention of the Malfoy's name left people with mixed emotions. "And are we going to tell her if she doesn't?"

"There is no way I am telling that bitch anything!" Ron spat and this resulted in a disapproving look from his mother. "She had her chances during the War. She had plenty of chances to stop that crazy sister of hers. Has any of you forgotten she stood by and _watched _while that maniac tortured Hermione? How she sheltered and harboured Voldemort in her own house and did nothing? I say to hell with her!"

"Ronald Billius Weasley!" Mrs Weasley raised her voice and Ron's cheeks turned a dark shade of scarlet at the rather embarrassing us of his middle name. He avoided meeting his mother's blazing eyes and stared at the scratches on the table's surface. "You are an Auror and more is expected from you! I haven't heard Harry mention anything about leaving Narcissa Malfoy to discover the severity of this situation on her own and he has more reasons to hate her than you do. It is your job as an employee of the Ministry, a member of the Order of the Phoenix and as my son, to do as needed to fight against the rise of evil!"

Hermione looked from Molly Weasley to Ron and back. For a moment she was reminded of exactly why she had walked away from him; because he had refused to understand, because he had simply not been able to. All he experienced was hatred and the hatred controlled him for a long time after the war. He never understood why Hermione spoke of Bellatrix at all, and he did not understand at all why she did not simply condemn her. Ron never knew what it was like to feel someone under your skin, in your blood, whispering in the back of your head every single day. Hermione's eyes found Harry and met his gaze. He understood. It was why she had never told him.

"She has a point," Kingsley said slowly and Molly Weasley blushed slightly. "Narcissa Malfoy will need to be made aware that someone might be targeting her to make a sacrifice in order to bring back Bellatrix." He looked around the table. "Protection has been assigned to Andromeda and Teddy to keep them safe. Two Aurors will be posted outside her house at all times and the Fidelius Charm has been reinstated, with myself as its Secret Keeper."

"Is there really going to be another war?" Ginny's voice sounded tired and everybody looked at her. The young redhead was caressing the swell of her stomach and sad brown eyes searched the faces of those sitting around the kitchen table.

Her father looked at her and his words filled all of those present with dread. "It looks like there will be. Even with just Bellatrix Lestrange at his side, Voldemort is dangerous enough. And it did not take him long to gain himself an army. Many creatures out there still prefer the darkness over the light and will join him without hesitation when given the chance."

"But he is mortal this time around," Harry added and Hermione detected the optimism in his voice. When she looked at him she recognised the determination flickering behind his eyes. "Before, his soul had been split. The Horcruxes have all been destroyed. Even if Voldemort claims his soul back from the underworld, it will be in one piece and in one place. He will be a lot easier to destroy."

Minerva McGonagall sighed and spoke the words everybody was thinking. "Let's hope you're right, Harry."

"This leaves us with one final question," Kingsley said and several sets of eyes fixed on the Minister of Magic. Tonight, he was just another wizard fighting against evil. Tomorrow morning he would be at the head of the Wizarding World yet again and the story would hit the Daily Prophet and all hell would break lose. Kingsley Shacklebolt did not look forward to the break of dawn as he imagined the mass panic that would engulf their community. "As Minister of Magic it is my job to inform Narcissa Malfoy of the danger she might be in but I kindly ask one of you to accompany me."

Ron briskly shook his head and Hermione watched how Harry glanced at Ginny, clearly torn about whether to accompany Kingsley. She noticed how Ginny weakly shook her head and she pitied her friend for the very first time. She could imagine Ginny being torn apart in fear and guilt. She swallowed and raised her hand before meeting Kingsley's eyes. "I'll go."

"Are you crazy?" Ron shouted unexpectedly and Hermione's eyes snapped in his direction. It was yet another reason why she had left him. He had a temper. She did not like it. "Have you forgotten what happened to you at Malfoy Manor?"

Hermione pulled back the sleeve of her black blouse and revealed the silver scars on her forearm. An almost childlike handwriting clearly spelled the word MUDBLOOD. It was a permanent reminder of Bellatrix Lestrange's hatred. Intense hazel eyes pierced into Ron's brown and she spoke through clenched teeth. "No, I haven't forgotten, Ronald. I am reminded every day. And perhaps because of that I think I'd rather go back and tell Narcissa Malfoy what is happening instead of sitting here and letting myself be eaten alive by hatred!"

There was a silence in which Mrs Weasley stood up and summoned several steaming mugs of tea from the kitchen. They neatly landed on the table and the scent of the comforting brew filled Hermione's nostrils. Slim, eager fingers closed around the warm mug before bringing it up to her lips and sipping from the warm liquid. It was strange how soothing tea could be. She stared into her mug for a little while before becoming aware of a set of eyes resting on her and looked up to find Andromeda looking at her.

When their eyes met Hermione watched how Andromeda's gaze dropped down to her arm before making eye contact again. "That was admirable, Hermione."

The young brunette shrugged and put down her mug of tea. "Somebody has to do it, Andy. This is a new war, a new fight. Things have changed in six years." Her voice trailed off and her gaze was drawn to the nearest window and she watched how the thick snow had begun to cover the grounds outside. Her eyes glazed over and her voice was reduced to a whisper. "People have changed."

~()~

Several hours had passed by the time Hermione left the Burrow. The dining room was pretty much empty as she was one of the last to leave, accompanied by Minerva and Andromeda. The three witches were about to step into the dark, snowy night when a voice called Hermione back. It was Ron. He was standing in the door way leading to the stairs and Hermione shot Minerva and Andromeda an apologetic look before walking back into the house. She just heard the faint popping sounds as the other women Dissaparated and with a heavy heart she walked up to Ron.

"Some meeting, huh?" he asked in a forced casual way and leant against the door frame. "Kingsley's done well in replacing Dumbledore though. Not as charismatic but still good."

Hermione resisted snorting. Ron had been sarcastic for most of the meeting, occasionally interjecting a harsh bordering on rude comment throughout the conversations. The tone of the meeting had changed after Hermione's agreement to see Narcissa Malfoy and for the remainder of the night they celebrated the memories of their friends who had fallen. For a while it had felt as if Albus Dumbledore, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks and Fred Weasley had been in the room with them.

"You didn't seem too happy about him being here though," Hermione reminded Ron and watched his expression change. He stepped closer to her and looked at her. She stared right back at him. There was something hostile about the way he looked at her. Perhaps she had been wrong when she thought he had moved on. It had been nearly six years. "What is your problem, Ron?"

"My problem is that you walked out on me, telling me about how you were so desperate to lead a different life," Ron said sharply and searched Hermione's face. "What sort of life is that exactly, Hermione? The sort of life where you spend more time behind your desk than in your apartment?" He stepped even closer to her, his lips now mere inches from her hair. "Where you come home to nothing else but an empty bed and your own fingers?"

Hermione felt anger boil in the pit of her stomach, rush through her veins. Hazel eyes blazed as she stepped away from him. "Seems to me very little has changed in six years, Ronald Weasley. You are still the immature prat you used to be back in school" She shook her head. She wasn't sure whether to feel revolted or angry. "This isn't the time to talk about the past. There is a war coming. In case you haven't noticed, Lord Voldemort will rise again!"

Ron's eyes narrowed and his cheeks had reddened in anger. "Bellatrix Lestrange will too." Hermione didn't answer but merely stared at him. Ron watched how her pupils unexpectedly dilated and her face was drained from its colour. She stood before him, rigid, and stared back at him. Ron stepped back in her direction, closing what little distance there was between them. "And there is a part of you that doesn't mind at all, isn't there?"

"Shut up!" Hermione hissed through clenched teeth and felt unexpected tears burn behind her eyes. The scar on her forearm began to burn and her stomach twisted and turned. Suddenly she felt sick. "Shut up! You have no idea!"

Ron cocked his head and arched an eyebrow. There was contempt in his eyes and his voice betrayed a certain loathing Hermione had never heard before. "Well?"

She shook her head, tears glistening in her hazel eyes. She turned around and left him standing in the open door as she hurried across the kitchen, yanked open the front door and was faced with the darkness of the night. Before stepping outside she glanced back over her shoulder. Ron was still watching her with a dark look in his eyes and Hermione turned away and stepped out into the snow. The cold wind immediately took her breath away and bitter tears streamed down her cheeks as she turned on the spot and disappeared into the night.


	4. Tangled Sheets

**Chapter 4**

Her sheets stuck to her damp, sweat covered skin. Her chest rose and fell quickly and her eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling through the darkness. Her flesh was burning hot and the silk sheets slid smoothly over her body as it rocked in its steady, powerful rhythm. Open was her mouth, her throat dry but her lips slightly swollen. She lay naked on her bed, only her feet covered by the black material of her sheets. In the weak silver moonlight falling through an opening in the curtains her naked body seemed to light up. The tender light cherished her firm breasts and her proud, swollen nipples. It accented her flat stomach and the belly button which became more pronounced now that she desperately arched her back, a moaning whimper falling from her lips. Strands of brown hair stuck to her forehead.

Her left hand caressed the swell of her breasts, its nails painfully scraping over her nipples, sending shots of pain through her body that only increased the intense pleasure she was experiencing. Her right leg was pulled up, her lift angled slightly outwards. The position exposed the damp core between her legs, glistening with moist as the moonlight illuminated her right hand caressing, touching rubbing er most intense, sensitive spot. The tips of her fingers were wet and slick with her own juices and her heart hammered against her ribcage as her body's urgent jerky moves increased and the moans escaping from her lips became louder.

The image of the woman flooded into her mind. Dark and haunting, like the most terrifying shadow of the night. Her eyes so dark they appeared like charcoal and her curls so thick and coarse they were nothing more than unruly. Her blood red lips, swollen and plump. The porcelain tones of her skin made for a delicate appearance of a monster as her face hovered above her, her lips mere inches from hers. Her bodyweight pressed down heavily upon her and her chest tightened as she felt the woman's hands trail the still developing shapes of her body. She touched her... over and over...

And Hermione's body exploded in another mind blowing orgasm as the hidden tension laced with guilt poured out of her. She shook and trembled as her left hand dug deeply into her mattress, like she had done for so many nights before. Only in the darkness of her own room, in the safety of her own bed, did she dare expose the dark secrets she kept; the secret that caused her to close her eyes night after night, summoning the witch's face from the depths of her memories. The secret that made her touch the most intimate parts of her body night after night, dipping her fingers into the damp core of her body to bring herself to an orgasm as the woman's name rose in the back of her throat only to die on her lips.

_Bellatrix._

Hermione rolled onto her side, wrapping herself up into the comforting safety of her silk sheets. Her body still felt warm and she slowly slipped off the wave of her orgasm, resting her head on her pillow and brushing the strands of hair out of her eyes. She had been unable to stop herself ever since the moment Bellatrix Lestrange had her pinned to the floor and she had been looking up to her. Bellatrix had bee damagingly beautiful, terrifyingly haunting but night after night Hermione found nothing else could bring her to a climax but that memory; the memory of Bellatrix Lestrange touching her, sickly caressing her before using her knife and cutting through her flesh.

She felt guilty as she stared at the window. From behind the glass the moon lit up her face, as if to remind her of her sick pleasure, her need. She felt sick to her stomach every time but whenever she told herself she would stop she found herself desiring _her _more. It would make the urge grow and eventually she would only be able to release herself with the image of Bellatrix before her eyes. She lay like this, staring at the opening in the curtains and watching the snow fall outside, before she eventually drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

~()~

Hermione inspected herself in the floor to ceiling bedroom mirror one final time before finally approving of the image she saw reflected at her. It had taken her ages to decide what she was going to wear for her meeting with Narcissa Malfoy. She did not want to wear the standard robes she always wore to the Ministry, desperate to create a personality of her own. She had put her hair up, casually, with a few strands finding its way playfully down her shoulders and was wearing a knee length black skirt, black leather boots reaching up to her knees and a white blouse. The outfit would be considered smart in the Muggle world. She had even applied a small amount of make-up and some of the most expensive perfume she owned.

Hermione carefully hung the fragile golden necklace around her neck and briefly caressed the small golden pendant, in the shape of a heart. It had belonged to her mother. She wore the matching earrings and bracelet. Just as she turned to leave the bedroom there was a knock on the door. She walked into the hall of her apartment and opened the door. Kingsley Shacklebolt stood outside and he had chosen to wear his official Minister outfit and for a moment Hermione wondered whether she had made the wrong choice.

"You look amazing, Hermione," Kingsley said, as if he had read her mind and Hermione nervously smiled. "Are you sure you want to do this? I know you have not been to Malfoy Manor since..."

Hermione cut him off, the words that were expected from her falling easily off her lips. "I am ready. Though I fail to see how she can still choose to live there after everything that happened and the evil that lived between those walls."

Kingsley didn't answer and instead opened the front door. Hermione grabbed her cloak from the table by the door, slipped her wand in her pocket and then stepped outside into the snow. Kingsley followed and the door fell in its lock behind them. After having checked nobody was around, they Dissaparated, leaving behind nothing but some footprints in the snow.

When they reappeared in rural Wiltshire, Hermione found herself gasping for air. The bitter cold wind was unforgiving. She turned around only to find herself confronted with a sight she had not seen for many years. Malfoy Manor lay at the end of a long, grave covered drive. Now, against the crystal white backdrop of winter, the building seemed far less haunting than it had done several years ago. Behind most of the windows candle light was burning, creating a scene that bordered on beautiful. The elaborate gardens were neatly kept and covered in snow. In the distance Hermione could hear the sound of a fountain.

Kingsley briefly took her arm. "Ready?"

Hermione took a deep breath and began walking towards the large metal gate that provided entrance to the Malfoy Estate. Her heart hammered in her chest, pounding louder with every closing step. She remembered Bellatrix vividly, strolling through these very gardens. "As ready as I'll ever be."

When they reached gates it became clear they were still being guarded by magic and Kingsley raised his wand before speaking loudly. "The Minister of Magic is here to speak to Mrs Narcissa Malfoy."

His voice had barely died out when the gates silently swung open, revealing the full extent of the lane leading up to the large mansion. Hermione found herself walking a familiar path, past the neatly kept topiary and the white peacocks that strode by with the same arrogance as the Malfoy family. It appeared Lucius Malfoy's pride had not been as damaged as much as the Daily Prophet had reported shortly after the war.

Hermione and Kingsley reached the large oak front doors and the heavy doors swung open and Hermione hesitated for a moment before stepping into the high ceilinged entrance hall. It was being lit by a variety of candles and as her eyes wandered around she noticed that some changes had been made. The Malfoy family portraits that had once lined the walls had been removed and the walls had been painted in a deep burgundy red, creating an unexpectedly warm atmosphere. When her gaze dropped to the floor she saw the marble tiles had not been replaced.

The sound of heels echoing off the walls betrayed the arrival of Narcissa Malfoy and the witch came walking down the marble staircase, a hand delicately rested on the banister as she made her way down. Curious dark eyes searched the visitor's faces and seemed to recognise Kingsley Shacklebolt immediately. Hermione realised Narcissa would recognise Kingsley as she had stood before in court when she gave her version of the events as they happened on the eve of the Final Battle. And now she faced him again, in her own home.

Hermione watched as Narcissa graciously descended down the stairs, her deep blue robes rustling behind her as she did. As she observed the older witch she noticed how she had not aged at all since the last time they had been in one room together. Narcissa still looked as beautiful as she had done six years ago, when she had stood in the dark corners of the drawing room as Bellatrix tortured her. She had done nothing.

"Minister," Narcissa greeted Kingsley and Hermione couldn't even detect a slight hint of haughtiness in her voice. Narcissa's hair fell down her shoulders, blonde with the dark streaks that seemed so out of place. Her dark eyes fixed on Kingsley and she produced a smile that changed her whole face. "How may I help you?"

It was only then that she discovered Hermione, who was standing behind Kingsley and her dark eyes widened. She looked at the young brunette from head to toe, lingering a little longer on the leather boots and the slight cleavage appearing from behind the white blouse. When her eyes eventually found Hermione's there was recognition dawning in her dark orbs but she seemed to fail at remembering her name.

"Hermione Granger," Hermione smiled. She felt cold inside but the longer she looked at Narcissa, the more her feelings changed. The smile had felt false at first, unreal, but now she smiled, truly smiled. She could not explain why, as this was the very place where she had endured the worst torture ever. But also a place that had opened something inside of her, created something. And she stepped past Kingsley and reached out her hand. Narcissa tentatively shook it and seemed to shake under Hermione's touch. The young brunette looked at Narcissa. "Mrs Malfoy, is there somewhere we can talk?"

"The drawing room is available," Narcissa said hesitantly and went ahead, leading Kingsley and Hermione down a familiar looking corridor, also lit by candles until she reached double doors leading into another room. They magically swung aside and revealed the decor of the room behind it. As they entered Hermione's eyes immediately snapped up. The crystal chandelier that had almost crushed her and Bellatrix had been restored, the wooden floor polished and the furniture replaced. Someone had tried to erase, forget, what happened here.

Narcissa turned around, as if she suddenly became aware of the room they were in and her eyes sought out Hermione to find the brunette looking at the very spot on the floor where she had been pinned down underneath Bellatrix. When Hermione's gaze snapped up and met Narcissa's eyes, she did not look away. Their gazes locked, filling the room with palpable tension and Kingsley looked from Hermione to Narcissa and back.

"Please, have a seat," Narcissa gestured to the arm chairs by the fire place The tingling sensation at Hermione's feet betrayed the house elf magic and on the table several glasses had appeared, accompanied by a bottle of expensive mead. Narcissa watched and waited until Kingsley and Hermione had sat down before taking a seat in one of the other chairs and she folded her hands in her lap. Inquisitive eyes searched the faces of the Minister of Magic and the girl who had been one third of the Golden Trio.

"Mrs Malfoy, I'm afraid we have some concerning news for you," Kingsley said slowly and felt how Hermione perked up in her seat. Narcissa frowned, not quite understanding what Kingsley meant. "Two days ago we found two disturbed in the Scottish Highlands..." He watched the expression change on Narcissa's face. "The graves belonged to Lord Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange. Both bodies had been taken."

"That same day there was a robbery at the British Museum. An item that was part of an exposition about Ancient Greece was taken, an artefact known as the Ruby Hyacinth..." Hermione said but Narcissa's sharp intake of breath interrupted her.

"The Resurrection Flower."

"You are familiar with its legend?" Hermione asked curiously and Narcissa nodded.

"My sister's body and the Resurrection Flower," Narcissa said and dark eyes fixed on Kingsley. "Where is Andromeda?"

"She is in the protection of the Order of the Phoenix. And you can be too if you so wish. As you are aware of the legend, you know that to resurrect the dead a sacrifice by a pure blood relative must be made in order to open up the underworld and claim their soul. It pains me to inform you that the grave of Merope Gaunt, the woman who gave birth to Tom Riddle, was found disturbed a few days before the discovery of the missing bodies. It is likely that whoever wants Lord Voldemort to rise will do so soon," Kingsley said slowly and looked from Hermione to Narcissa. "If they haven't already."

"Where are your husband and son, Mrs Malfoy?" Hermione questioned and Narcissa's eyes snapped in her direction. Intense fury had ignited in her dark orbs.

"Why? Do you think they will join the Dark Lord again?" There was defensiveness in Narcissa's voice and Hermione couldn't blame her. Most people in the Wizarding Community believed the saying _once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. _Hermione, unlike some, was not so sure. Change was possible. People changed all the time.

"No, Mrs Malfoy. But they were known servants of Lord Voldemort prior to his downfall. Even if they choose not to appear at his side, they might find themselves in danger for doing so," she clarified her question and watched how Narcissa slowly exhaled. Hermione's eyes rested on the woman's folded hands. Sitting like this Narcissa seemed calm and reserved, unlike the woman Hermione had seen fight Harry and Ron. Conflicting emotions began to rise in her chest.

Narcissa slowly nodded and looked at Kingsley. Her lips formed a thin line and every word was laced with anger. "Who is it? Who took her?"

"We don't know," Kingsley answered slowly and sighed. "But I am sure we will soon."

"Mrs Malfoy," Hermione leant in, casually allowing the sleeve of her blouse to fall back and revealed the scars on her arm. She saw Narcissa look and Hermione swallowed. "Narcissa, I know this is painful for you. But can you think of anyone who, after the war, would perhaps be."

Narcissa briskly shook her head and looked at Kingsley. She seemed reserved and strangely collected. "You should talk to my husband, Minister. He is in the library, second door on your right." She paused and her gaze lingered on Hermione. "If you don't mind, I'd like to speak to Miss Granger?"

Kingsley looked at Hermione and the brunette nodded. She watched the Minister of Magic stand up and leave the drawing room. When the door closed only silence remained and Hermione nervously peered at Narcissa through her eyelashes, for the first time becoming really becoming aware of Narcissa's presence and the mutual memories they shared.

"Miss Granger," Narcissa said and her gaze lingered on the scars on Hermione's arm. "I considered approaching you after the trial but I assumed you did not wish to speak to me."

Hermione swallowed. "I..." Her voice trailed off. "I don't know."

The silence between them lingered on as neither witch seemed to know what to say. They sat across each other, observing the other person as well as the cracks in the wooden floor, the pictures on the wall and the flames in the fireplace. The more Hermione looked at Narcissa, the more similarities she saw between her and Bellatrix. And it frightened her yet it sparked a desperate need inside of her. A need that was as urgent as the one she experienced at night, burning her up from the inside out. As the minutes past, Hermione found herself picking at her finger nails.

"Your sister," she began and shook her head as if to erase a memory "If she comes back..." She hesitated. "Will she be like she was before?"

Narcissa curiously narrowed her eyes. "Most likely. It was her own rotten, darkened soul that was send to the underworld the moment she died. That same soul will emerge, having dwelled in the earth's fire for six years, amongst spirits far more deranged than her own. I do not think Bellatrix will have changed, Miss Granger. Why would you ask?"

Hermione shrugged. "Because life has taught me to."

"That is a wise lesson" Narcissa answered slowly and her eyes trailed off to Hermione's hand, as if she saw something Hermione knew wasn't there. Just as Narcissa was about to speak again, the door to the drawing room opened and Kingsley's head appeared. His eyes found Hermione and they were a silent invitation to leave. She rose to her feet and Narcissa followed suit and slowly followed Hermione to the door before guiding Kingsley and Hermione back to the Entrance Hall. Kingsley turned as the front door swung open.

"The Order of the Phoenix is happy to offer protection, Mrs Malfoy," he reminded her and Narcissa seemed to think about his officer. "We can send a member over by the end of the day."

"I am happy to stay," Hermione said, her hazel eyes fixed on Narcissa and the older witch curiously looked at her. Hermione turned to Kingsley. "No offence but who else do you think is going to offer to stay here? Harry can't leave Ginny; Ron would turn into a homicidal maniac. I am quite happy to do it. I will go home, collect some items I may need and return later today" She turned back to Narcissa. "If that is acceptable for you, of course, Mrs Malfoy."

Narcissa averted her eyes and instead stared into the falling snow outside. "Most acceptable, Miss Granger."


	5. Blind Eyes

**Chapter 5**

_Were our names too unfamiliar_  
_to ever speak of love?_  
_~Melissa Etherdige - I've Loved You Before_

The room was cold and dimly lit by several candles, strategically placed on a heavy wooden table, the window sills and a pile of old, leather covered books. Some of the wax had begun to drip onto the table, slowly approaching the other objects laid out across its surface. The flickering flames cast strange, haunting images onto the stone walls. Most of the windows had once been broken but were now held back together by magic, the glass now only betraying the fine lines where it had once shattered.

His black cloak rustled behind him as he walked into the room, securely closing the door behind him, double checking the heavy metal bolt more out of habit than out of fear. His eyes were briefly drawn to the window and he gazed at the pure white snow accumulating outside. Nature's beauty was mesmerizing, even to those with a soul that knew no light. Darkness had fallen. He felt most comfortable in the night, where nobody could see his face. He went hidden underneath his cloak for most of the time since arriving back in Britain a few weeks ago. Before returning he had lived in the luxury of freedom beyond any kind he had ever known before but losing that was all worth it. Soon he would be rewarded in a different way.

He turned away from the window and focused on the large rug that lay spread out across the stone floor. It was everything but a suitable resting place for his guests, but for now it was all he had to offer. The building he had made his retreat for the past few weeks was an abandoned mansion at the bottom of a large hill in Wales. For years it had been neglected, forgotten by those who had once lived here. It was perfect for what he was going to do; perfect for his plans.

His gaze followed the shapes of the two rigid figures on the rug. They lay side by side, in quite a similar fashion as he had found them, though now no longer surrounded by the wood of their caskets. His master still carried pride, even in death. In the yellow candle light his snake like features seemed to glow, like tender silver, though his eyes were empty and lacked the fire and devotion he had once seen shimmer behind them. Walden MacNair dropped to his knees and clutched his master's cold hand into his own, bringing it to his lips.

"Soon, My Lord," he whispered and his eyes were drawn to the second body. Bellatrix Lestrange looked as if she was sleeping; her raven curls fell down the sides of her face. She was paler than he remembered her, her features more gaunt. And yet she carried her beauty still. Their natural magic had preserved their bodies, kept them safe from the decaying hands of time. Death had claimed only their soul.

Walden MacNair stood up and approached the table where the items lay neatly stalled out. A cup studded with black diamonds stood in the middle of the table, flanked on either side by two empty bowls made out of pure gold. Behind them stood one phial containing a strand of black hair, floating in a silvery liquid. It seemed to illuminate itself and he knew the magic that lived inside the glass. A second phial stood by some of the candles, empty. He grasped it and clutched it safely between his fingers before glancing over his shoulder at Bellatrix Lestrange.

"One sacrifice of a pure blood relative and the soul arises from the underworld as the payment is made," he whispered before walking around the table and with one hand gesture all the candles were snuffed out. Thin clouds of smoke circled up into the air, leaving behind the distinct candle smell. His eyes wandered around the room one last time, resting one last time on the two cold, rigid bodies on his floor. It seemed so simple to leave them here, where no one would ever find them. A smile crept onto his face and he removed the heavy bolt before opening the door. Behind it laid a dark corridor and he disappeared into the darkness after locking the door behind him.

The ascension was upon them. By dawn the world would change.

~()~

Hermione stood outside the gates of Malfoy Manor and stared up at the large mansion trough the metal bars. She was carrying a small leather rug sack and had tied her hair back in a loose ponytail. She clutched her wand safely in her hand and found herself lost for air as she stared at the dark building in front of her. Now, against the dark back drop of the night, it was exactly like the night she had been brought here by the Snatchers. Candlelight still flickered behind the glass and Hermione took a deep breath before raising her wand.

"Hermione Granger, Order of the Phoenix," she spoke loud and clear and watched how the magic surrounding the gate seemed to dissolve itself and she took a small step back, not quite trusting the magic that surrounded the Malfoy residence. "I am here to see Mrs Narcissa Malfoy."

The gates swung open and revealed the snow covered drive. The fresh layer of snow had covered the footprints she and Kingsley had left behind earlier this morning when they had visited Narcissa Malfoy. Hermione bit her lip and slowly began walking towards the oak front door. With every step she felt more hesitation and her heart hammered in her chest. As she walked she was reminded of the conversation she had had with Harry and Ron over dinner at the Leaky Cauldron prior to coming here tonight.

"You are doing what?" Ron had said when Hermione informed them she would be staying at Malfoy Manor to keep an eye on Narcissa Malfoy. He had put down his beer so harshly half of it had spilled over the edge of the glass and dripped into his lap. "Are you bloody mental?"

Hermione had shaken her head. "Someone needs to do it. And neither of you would be up for it" Harry had not argued with her. Instead, he had silently cut his steak into pieces and chewed it. Hermione however knew that look in his eyes and she knew he was thinking about something. Something he did not tell her. "Harry?"

He didn't get a chance to answer because Ron spoke before he could open his mouth. "This is insane, Hermione. You are going back to the place where that monster..." He could not bear speaking the words out loud and Hermione had met his blazing eyes. The tone of his voice had been that same, pushy tone she had hated in school. "What are you playing at? What else is going on?"

She had left them at that table, her dinner barely touched after replying that neither had any idea and she walked out on them, saying something that sounded like she needed to go and get her things. Neither of them had bothered to come after her and Hermione suspected that had been Harry's doing. It seemed Ron was adamant that he'd talk to her in attempt to find out what she was hiding. She was never going to tell him.

How could she ever tell him that in her dreams, most nights, she was visited by Bellatrix Lestrange's haunting ghost? How the raven haired witch had crept under her skin, into her heart, and had slowly begun to poison her from the inside out? How she longed for the pain, the sickening touch and the unexplainable desire. How every day she was torn apart by hatred laced with desire, guilt and passion. How when she looked in the mirror she saw something flickering behind her own eyes that made her unable to hate the female Death Eater who had cut her flesh and left her to bleed, forever scarred?

Hermione snapped out of her thoughts as she reached the front door and found they had already swung open, revealing the entrance hall. When she stepped inside, careful not to bring in any snow, she found Narcissa Malfoy standing at the bottom of the marble staircase and the older witch approached Hermione as she stepped into the house. The doors closed with an unexpected bang and Hermione jumped, quickly spinning around. The sound echoed through the house, like it had done once before.

"Miss Granger," Narcissa said when she reached Hermione and curious dark eyes searched the younger woman's face. Her voice was strangely constricted and she seemed more distant than she had been earlier today. "I will show you your room. Please follow me."

Hermione climbed the marble staircase, following Narcissa's rustling robes. Her eyes wandered up to the older witch's hair, falling freely down her back. The blonde streaked with black was a striking feature against the blue of Narcissa's robes. Hermione's gaze almost shamelessly followed the lines of Narcissa's body and lingered on the curve of her chest and the roundness of her hips. She walked with her back straight, her slim fingers caressing the marble banister. When she reached the top Narcissa unexpectedly turned around and looked down at Hermione, who was a few steps behind her.

"Why did you take this assignment?" she asked bluntly and Hermione would swear she saw a single tear shimmer in the corner of Narcissa's eye. "You are not an Auror."

"Indeed, I am not," Hermione answered slowly.

Narcissa cocked her head. "I had not expected you would ever want to come back here," Her voice was softer now than when she had addressed in the entrance hall. "The memories between these walls..."

"Will forever be a part of me," Hermione answered, sharper than she had intended. She watched the expression on Narcissa's face harden and she sighed. She knew the memories of which Narcissa spoke. They would be a part of her in a way nobody would ever know or could even begin to understand. She swallowed. "I'm sorry, that was out of order. To be honest, I don't know why I offered to do this. Perhaps because I need to."

Narcissa merely nodded and went ahead in showing Hermione her room. She opened the door and revealed the large bedroom behind it, complete with four poster double bed, dresser, wardrobe, desk and armchair by the window. As Hermione entered the room she realised Narcissa had chosen a room with a view over the snow covered garden and the fountain and she approached the glass, for a moment struck that something so serene and beautiful could be part of a place as dark and haunted as Malfoy Manor.

"Supper is served at nine," Narcissa said politely and Hermione turned to the open door to find the older witch look at her. As their gazes locked Hermione was reminded how much Narcissa really looked like Bellatrix and she swallowed hard. "I expect to see you in the dining room, Miss Granger. I would like you to be my company for the night."

Hermione nodded and when Narcissa closed the door and left her to the silence of her new room, she found herself suddenly feeling lonely. She sunk down into the comfortable arm chair and gazed out of the partially frozen window. The fountain was still trickling water and she resisted opening the window so she could hear it flow. She gazed out over the untouched beauty of snow and ice and sighed.

Anybody who knew her would have told her she was crazy for coming back here. But she felt like she needed to. A silent whisper, an echo she couldn't' hear but still feel, called for her all the time. Not a day went by that she did not think of Bellatrix. Most nights her hands caressed her own body, desperate to release the longing she felt, hidden so deep inside. And yet she could never tell anyone about the twisted feelings she experienced. How she was being torn up from the inside out, conflicted about everything. She knew nobody who felt a sense of happiness, of sickening joy, that Bellatrix could return; nobody but herself.

~()~

That night Hermione met Narcissa in the dining room of Malfoy Manor. As Hermione walked through the door she found Narcissa sitting at the table, looking up from a book. She put it down beside her and gestured to the chair across from where she was sitting. Hesitantly, Hermione slipped into the seat and watched how her glass goblet filled itself with dark red wine. Carefully she picked it up and placed it against her lips. The alcoholic liquid felt warm and smooth as it trickled down her throat.

"Your husband and son are not joining us?" Hermione asked, having noticed the table was only laid for two people. She had expected Draco and Lucius Malfoy to be present though she doubted Lucius would be willing to share his table with a Mudblood.

"Lucius prefers his supper in his library and Draco is..." Narcissa said and she hesitated, her gaze locking with Hermione's. "He is otherwise engaged."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Have you thought about which one of you might be the one the person who claimed Bellatrix will come to look for?" Her words almost caused Narcissa to knock over her glass but the older witch quickly restored herself. "Yourself or Andromeda?"

"If the one who took my sister knows her at all, he will know she will never accept her life being given to her by the one she hates the most," Narcissa said slowly and the look in her eyes changed. "My sister will never allow Andromeda's blood to flow through her veins, be it alive or dead. No, Miss Granger, they will come for me. And when they do..."

"You will give them your blood," Hermione had finished Narcissa's sentence without really realising it and they stared at each other. Hazel eyes narrowed and she swallowed hard. "Because all you want is to have your sister back, regardless of the darkness she will bring with her. You are aware that I have bent sent to prevent that from happening? That when whoever this dark soul is walks in here, I am supposed to fight them and prevent them from taking your blood to resurrect Bellatrix."

Narcissa's eyes pierced into Hermione's. "But will you?

Hermione pushed her chair back, knocking over her own glass of wine. The liquid spilt over the table, dripping down onto the wooden floor and seeping into the cracks between the floorboards. She shot Narcissa a dark glare and felt her chest tighten. Suddenly her heart ached in her chest. "I will be in my room."

~()~

It was dark and she lay in her new bed, staring at the window. She had not drawn the curtains and the moonlight fell freely into her large room, leaving it bathing in silver light. The Manor was covered in silence. She had listened for what felt like an eternity but had heard nothing. Not even footsteps. It was as if the Manor was abandoned. With her heart hammering in her chest Hermione slipped out of bed and her feet touched the wooden floor. For a moment she felt cold but it quickly disappeared as she walked to the door. She opened it, careful not to make a sound, and stepped out onto the landing.

The landing of Malfoy Manor was being lit by small torches, their light flickering as she walked past. The walls were decorated by a variety of paintings, most of them depicting strangely beautiful country sides. Hermione walked past them, glancing up every so often. She could not sleep. Something else called for her. She reached the top of the stairs and peered down. Downstairs only darkness greeted her and she took a deep breath before slowly starting to descend down the stairs. The marble felt strangely warm under her bare feet.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs she held still for a moment, her gaze drawn to the heavy wooden front door. Then she walked on, down the corridor Narcissa had led her and Kingsley through earlier that day. She reached the doors leading to the drawing room and Hermione took a sharp breath before pushing against them, revealing the room that lay behind. The drawing room was covered in complete darkness apart from the fire smouldering in the fireplace. Hermione hesitantly stepped into the room and walked until she reached that spot.

The spot where she had been pinned down to the floor, underneath Bellatrix, sprawled out as the tears streamed down her face and blood trickled down her arm. She had screamed and in the silence of the Manor she could suddenly hear her own voice echo off the walls, like a voice calling from the deep. She turned and looked over her shoulder. She was alone. When she turned back she aimed her wand at the fireplace and a few seconds later nothing else remained but burning ashes and darkness surrounded her.

Slowly she kneeled down to the floor, her hands gently caressing the wood, before she lay down and curled up into a ball, pulling her knees up to her chin. She did not feel the cold. All she felt was the intense desire to be closer, to be nearer, and with that haunting feeling lingering on inside of her, Hermione fell asleep on the drawing room floor.


	6. Shadows Rise

**Chapter 6**

It was the cold, bone chilling draft that first alerted her something was wrong. Hermione sat up, for a moment bewildered about where she had been sleeping, and her bones and joints protested under the unexpected movement. She sat up, her eyes quickly adapting to the lingering darkness. Outside, just behind the horizon, the sun was starting to rise. Dawn would break soon. Hermione's eyes snapped in the direction of the doors and realised they were open. A cold, bitter wind blew through her air and she suddenly realised someone had opened the front door. She rose to her feet, dressed in her silk pyjamas, and began walking towards the door. Hermione drew her wand and when she reached the entrance hall she discovered the accumulated snow covering the stone floor.

"Narcissa?" Hermione called. Her voice carried on, echoed off the walls and cut through the silence. She flicked her wand and the heavy oak doors closed. She then spun around and hurried up the marble staircase. When she reached the landing she found it was now bathing in light. The torches had all fully ignited. Each one of them was now burning brightly. Hermione listened for a moment, her heart hammering in her chest. The sound of something falling over came from her left and she turned in the direction of the noise.

When she reached the double doors at the end of the corridor, Hermione listened for a moment and recognised the sound of footsteps inside the room. Heavy footsteps, as if made by boots. Her fingers closed around the door knob but just as she was about to open the door, she was thrown backwards and crashed painfully into the wall behind her, slumping down to the floor. The pain in her back was sickening and she felt something warm and sticky trickle down the back of her neck.

Narcissa's bedroom door had swung open and through her blurred vision Hermione could make out a large, dark cloaked figure standing in the open door. She searched the floor for her wand and encountered the solid wood. She dodged a bright flash of light that was cast her way and rolled to the left before taking aim and crying her spell. "STUPEFY!"

Her spell missed and more noises came from inside the bedroom. Another shape appeared, this one clad in white. Hermione leapt to her feet, lightheaded and with a thumping headache. She briefly touched the growing bump on her head and looked at her fingertips; they were stained with blood. She cast a quick and powerful Shield Charm when the cloaked figure sent another jinx her way and it deflected, crashing into one of the paintings and setting it alight. The flames began eating away at one of the nature scenes she had admired earlier today.

"Hermione..."

She recognised Narcissa's voice and turned to see the older witch standing in the door way, dressed in a white gown, her hair falling down her shoulders and looking bewildered. She had drawn her wand but did not seem to be aiming it at the cloaked intruder, who took aim yet again and cast another spell at Hermione. She defended herself and responded by a rain of fiery curses aimed at the unknown wizard. She went into fight mode and the adrenaline she experienced brought back memories from the Final Battle. She didn't know whether to be angry or scared and just kept casting spells. The first three missed but the fourth one hit his arm and Hermione watched how the phial he clutched slipped from his fingers. It was filled with a thick, dark red substance and Hermione's eyes widened. _Blood. Narcissa's blood._

Her eyes snapped back at Narcissa and only now did Hermione notice that Narcissa was pressing her left hand against the side of her neck. Her white gown was stained by dark red blood and the burgundy drops trickled through her fingers. Her eyes had widened in fear and when she caught Hermione's gaze her mouth opened. Her voice sounded broken. "Don't..."

"The sacrifice of blood must be made to resurrect the body," spoke the dark wizard standing between Hermione and Narcissa. The voice sounded strangely familiar, like it called from a distant past. In the yellow light of the torches Hermione's gaze dropped to the phial in his hand. He had managed to hold on to it. He aimed his wand at Hermione, showing no hesitation in using it. He took a step in her direction but Hermione did not move. Her wand was aimed at the wizard's chest but not a single spell rolled from her lips. They stared at each other like they were measuring each other's strength. "Step aside!"

"The Dark Lord will rise again!" the wizard continued and his eyes pierced into Hermione's. As she stared into his face she desperately tried to remember where she had seen him. She knew him. She recognised his face. He was part of her memory, part of her past. He took another step nearer to Hermione but she did not move. Yet she could not find the strength to utter her spell. The phial in his hand, with Narcissa's blood, could bring back Bellatrix. Bring back the woman who haunted her, who brought her to an orgasm night after night by merely being a memory. She took in a deep breath and tried to swallow. She felt sick and her hand trembled.

"I can't let you," she began but her voice was rudely cut off as the spell crashed into her chest, sending her backwards yet again. But this time there was no wall to break her fall. This time there was only the banister at the top of the stairs and she crashed into it, backwards, before losing her footing and realising gravity was taking over. She had only a split second to realise what was happening and desperate fingers tried to cling on. There was nothing but air. Her wand slipped from her fingers as her body tumbled backwards over the banister and for a twisted moment it felt as if she was flying. She heard Narcissa's cry and then there was nothing.

~()~

When she woke up she found herself lying on the stone floor of the entrance hall, at the bottom of the marble staircase. She felt cold and the pain was excruciating. As her eyes fluttered open she instantly felt sick. Her world was a blur and it was spinning rapidly before slowly her surroundings turned clear before her eyes. Slowly she became aware of a tender hand, stroking her hair and she turned her head to look at whoever sat beside her. Narcissa sat on her knees, her white gown soaked in blood, and her slender fingers ran through Hermione's brown hair. When she saw the younger witch had opened her eyes she let her breath escape.

"Thank Merlin," she breathed and her fingers followed the lines of Hermione's face. The touch was unexpectedly kind, sending a warm sensation deep down into the pit of Hermione's stomach. "I did not dare move you. I thought, for a moment, you were..." Her voice trailed off, leaving the words unsaid.

"You're bleeding," Hermione whispered and attempted to sit up but Narcissa pushed her back down. Hermione's eyes fixed on the cut on Narcissa's neck as she realised the older woman was not going to allow her to sit up. Blood was still trickling down her porcelain skin. "Narcissa, he cut you! You're bleeding!"

"Nothing that magic can't heal," Narcissa said calmly and briefly touched her neck. Her hands were covered in blood but it was hard to tell whether it was her own or Hermione's. Intense eyes looked at the young brunette. There was kindness in her voice and she let one of Hermione's ringlets run through her fingers. "You should not have tried to stop him, Hermione. I knew what he came here for and was willing to let him take it. It was not your place to stop him."

"My place?" Hermione snapped and ignored Narcissa's gentle touches that kept her lying down. She sat up, ignoring the instant nausea that overwhelmed her. She was used to pain. She could cope. "How _dare_ you talk to me about what is or is not my place? How can you sit there and tell me you are willing to look on as the most evil wizard of all time is being raised from the dead?"

"Have you ever lost someone, Hermione?" Narcissa said slowly and averted her gaze, ignoring the mention of Voldemort. "Have you ever wondered that if you had done things differently you could perhaps have changed the outcome?"

"You think that by bringing Bellatrix back you can change what she is?" Hermione hissed through clenched teeth and she showed her arm to Narcissa. Her scars lit up in the dim light of the entrance hall and she could see the older woman flinched. The scars disgusted Narcissa. The words that fell from her lips were in conflict with what she felt inside. Years of habit, of having listened to how other spoke, made it easier to believe the lie. "Your sister is a deranged, murderous lunatic who enjoys torturing people. She gets off on it and we both know it! And when she comes back she is not going to be any different because you want her to! Bellatrix is a monster!"

"Is that why you did _nothing_?" Narcissa fired back and Hermione felt her heart sink in her chest. Narcissa had noticed her hesitation. How she had not stopped the intruder from leaving with the phial of blood. "You had your chance, Hermione. He was right there, in front of you. He stood there and you did nothing! Why would you let him walk away if some part of you does not feel the same way I do?"

Hermione bit down so hard on her lip she tasted her own blood. "Because I don't _want _to feel this way."

~()~

She alerted Kingsley as quickly as she could, running back into the drawing room and starting the fire before calling for him through the Floo Network. When his head appeared in the fire and he looked at her he could immediately tell she was hurt. She reassured him she was fine, just a bump on the head and some bruises, and then broke the news that the intruder had escaped with Narcissa's blood. She swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like a failure for letting him leave. Behind her the sun climbed over the horizon. A new day had broken.

"He has what he came for. Lord Voldemort will rise again," Hermione said slowly and Kingsley's eyes widened. He stared at Hermione, who was covered in her own blood as well as Narcissa's. She could only imagine what she looked like in Kingsley's eyes and what he was thinking. "We need to gather everyone and meet today. We cannot wait. If we believed it was a nightmare before, it is about to become a whole lot worse!"

"What about Narcissa Malfoy?" Kingsley asked and Hermione looked over her shoulder. She was alone. Narcissa had gone back to her bedroom and Hermione wasn't sure what she was doing. When Hermione had leapt up to call the Order, Narcissa had left.

"I'm not sure," Hermione whispered and stood up. Suddenly she became aware of the fact she was still wearing her pyjamas and she felt somewhat embarrassed. "I will meet you at the Burrow in an hour."

~()~

With the winter sun shining weakly in the pale blue sky, the new age was upon them. He slammed the door behind him, not bothering with the bolt. The blood he took tonight was precious. He approached the table with the laid out items and placed the phial with blood beside one of the golden bowls before repeating the routine with the phial containing the hair. He took a deep breath before his hand slipped in his pocket. He had not dared to leave the red flower behind. He carried it with him, like his most prized possession and now carefully he placed it inside upon the table. It leaves were limp and its colour had faded.

From inside his sleeve he took the knife and inspected it briefly, checking its blade for sharpness. He placed it upon the flower and gently cut through the ruby leaves, releasing the magic that lay within. The silver blade released its true colour, the magic living inside. The leaves filled with colour, slowly turning as ruby red as blood. No longer limp and lifeless the flower rose to its full length, standing on the table in all its pride and glory. A golden beam of sunlight cherished it and Walden MacNair watched for a moment, amazed by how something so delicate and beautiful held such dark powers. He cut through the leaves further, until it separated from the plant and he carefully placed it in the diamond studded goblet.

As the single petal made contact with the glass an unexpected light filled the room. A fiery red ball appeared, hovering by the window, as if to decide where to go. Walden MacNair looked over his shoulder and watched, a smile appearing on his face, how the fire ball landed on the floor, coming to a rest at the feet of Lord Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange. And there it smouldered, like a fire without a source. Deep inside, he could see the shadows, one after the other desperately trying to reach the surface; caught demons in a world of fire. It was the portal he had been waiting for; the portal to the underworld to free the souls of the condemned.

"My Lord," MacNair breathed as he stared at the fire. "Soon you will be free, My Lord."

He turned back to the table and removed the stopper from the phial with the blood he has so violently taken tonight. She had been asleep, unaware of how he had watched her. She had not seen the blade as it cut through her flesh. Only when the pain came did she open her eyes and even then did she not fight to move away from him. She lay still, looking up at him. She knew why he was there and had it not been for that damned other witch it would have been so much easier.

"Bloody Muggles think this is some kind of plant. They have no idea what true magic it holds," MacNair groaned to himself as he hovered the phial over the goblet and watched how several drops of burgundy drops fell into the glass, trickling onto the single ruby petal. Before his eyes the most intense magic happened as the petal and the blood fused together, forming a liquid that looked a lot like wine. It seemed to glow, as if riddled with endless shattered diamonds. He brought it to his nose but was horrified it smelled of death. Slowly he turned, his eyes fixing on the fireball at Bellatrix Lestrange's feet. When he approached the body the ball extended itself, wrapping itself around the witch's body like a blanket.

MacNair dropped to his knees beside Bellatrix's head and he tentatively placed the glass against her lips, forcing her jaws apart with his free hand. As he tilted the goblet and watched in anticipation how the liquid began to find its way into Bellatrix's mouth, a narrow, fiery robe extended itself from the fire that surrounded Bellatrix. Slowly it snaked up along her legs, up to her waist before it split and trailed up both her arms, up to her shoulders and eventually reached the sides of the goblet. There, the fire laced itself with the liquid and it changed from blood red to a see through shade of silver. And it kept coming until the liquid ran out, having seeped into Bellatrix's mouth, and the fire retreated. Slowly it removed itself from the female Death Eater's body and eventually it returned to its original shape of a ball. He stood up and staggered backwards.

Bellatrix's dark eyes unexpectedly ignited, glooming with the silvery liquid he had just watched seep into her body. The colour reappeared on her cheeks and he watched in a mixture of shock and excitement as the porcelain tones reappeared on Bellatrix's flesh, followed by the slight pink blushes on her cheeks. Slender, long nailed fingers began clawing at the stone floor and tremors spread across her body. First her feet and legs, followed by her upper body and her arms and then her charcoal eyes rolled back into her head. A horrific gargling sound rose from the back of her throat before suddenly only silence remained. Bellatrix lay still, motionless.

Just as MacNair was about to take a step in her direction, she sat up with a jolt and gulped in the fresh air. She raised her hands in front of her face as if to inspect them and was heaving slightly. For a moment she reminded MacNair of a child that had fallen over and was trying to work out what had happened. But then dark eyes snapped up and met his. Bellatrix Lestrange staggered to her feet and took a few steps into his direction, seeking the security from the wall to support her weight and eventually she managed to clutch his robes.

"How long?" she asked with a husky voice.

"Six years."

The answer seemed to satisfy whatever questions she had and she turned around, gasping in horror at the sight of her fallen Master. Horror filled her eyes as she shrieked and spun around to face MacNair. Her voice had regained its original sharpness. "Don't just stand there, you idiotic fool! Bring him back! NOW!"

MacNair repeated the routine of cutting a petal from the red flower and placing it in the cup. He took the phial with the hair and carefully emptied into the goblet and watched same process unfold. The petal and the hair fused together, forming the same red substance as before. He turned and approached the lifeless body of the Dark Lord. As before, the fire wrapped itself around him like a blanket and as MacNair dropped to his knees, another fiery snake emerged and began to make its way up Voldemort's body and as the liquid seeped into his mouth, they merged together and the silvery liquid began to trickle down the Dark Lord's throat.

Bellatrix paced around the room impatiently, patting her dress as if to locate her wand. The realisation she did not have it left her full with frustration and anger. Who had dared to take a witch's wand? She froze when MacNair rose to his feet and watched how the process repeated itself. The Dark Lord's once red eyes filled themselves with silver and the dark blue veins under his snake skin began to fill themselves with blood, growing larger on his forehead and his hands. Bellatrix sucked in a deep breath of air when the Dark Lord's fingers began to move, clawing at the stone floor in a similar way Bellatrix had done. The tremors spread across his tall, slender body and when it stopped both MacNair and Bellatrix stood frozen, waiting for what came next.

As Lord Voldemort's fiery red eyes snapped open and his lungs filled with precious air, somewhere hundreds of miles away, a group gathered in a crowded kitchen to find a way to stop what had already happened. The new dawn had broken. A new era was upon them all and outside thick grey clouds began to pack in front of the sun, rapidly erasing the tender winter sunlight. They were too late.

Lord Voldemort had returned.


	7. The Hour Of Need

**Chapter 7**

It was crowded in the Burrow kitchen. Everybody had cramped back into the dining area and Mrs Weasley was busy serving them all breakfast. A huge pile of sausages and freshly baked bacon was whizzing around the kitchen, seeking out empty plates as a dozen eggs fried in three separate pans and pieces of toasts were jumping up out of the toaster every few minutes. The room had filled itself with the scent of fresh food, toast and tea and coffee. Hermione, who was the last to arrive, stepped out of the Floo Network and stumbled into the dining area, causing people to look up. Kingsley immediately stood up from his chair and walked around the table. Hermione observed how Ron watched her, with dark eyes, as she limped to the table. She had not bothered healing her injuries yet. There was no time to waste.

"Do you think you can recognise the man that attacked Narcissa this morning?" Kingsley asked and he handed Hermione a small stash of wanted posters. Angry faced of notorious Death Eaters stared back at her and Hermione went through them all. One after the other she put down, not recognising the man she had seen. It wasn't until she reached the last one that she called out.

"This is him!" she cried and threw the poster on the table. Walden MacNair was staring back at them, holding up his Azkaban prison number from his last visit to the prison. He looked evil, twisted. Staring at them Hermione was reminded of how their gazes had locked. Kingsley looked at her and she slammed her fist down on the table. She wasn't sure whether to feel angry, upset or relieved. "I tell you, it's him! That same freaky little moustache and the same build! I looked into this guy's eyes! Walden MacNair wants to bring back Voldemort!"

The sound of thunder rumbled over the house and the unexpected explosion of sound made people turn to the windows, looking outside. Fear filled some of their eyes and others shared nervous glances. It appeared a storm was coming. The thunder was followed by a bright flash of lightening that made Ginny squeal unexpectedly. The yellow flash of light lit up their faces and Hermione briefly glanced at Andromeda. The resemblance was striking. The wind was picking up outside, yanking the trees backwards and forwards. The snow had been erased by the rain that started falling half an hour ago, hammering down against the glass and on the roof. Thick grey mist pressed against the windows, swallowing up the world.

"Just like last time," Harry murmured and everybody fell silent. His green eyes were focused on the window. "The storm is coming."

"Tell me everything you can about Narcissa Malfoy," Kingsley urged and Hermione thankfully accepted a hot mug of tea that landed in front of her before meeting his eyes. "Did she say anything? What did she do when MacNair attacked her?"

"She did nothing. She seems to believe that when Bellatrix returns she can change her," Hermione said and Ron sarcastically snorted. She avoided looking at him, irritating rising up inside. "I am unsure whether she would be willing to support the Order. I think she is conflicted. I did not see Lucius and Draco. She told me her son was out. Lucius was hiding in his library, so she said. But Draco was not present at the Manor."

"That would be because I am here," said an unexpected voice and Hermione's head whipped around. Draco Malfoy had appeared in the kitchen door way, drenched by the rain, and dressed in sober black robes. His sleek blonde hair stuck to his forehead and as Hermione searched his face she realised how little he looked like his mother. She could not find anything in his face that resembled Narcissa. His eyes, his nose, the pointy chin and strong jaw line. It was all Lucius. Draco stepped into the kitchen, bringing a puddle of water in with him. Shy, grey eyes searched the gathered faces; briefly resting on the woman he knew was family but whom he had never met. "May I come in?"

"Let me dry these for you," Mrs Weasley hurried in his direction and followed his body shape with her wand, instantly drying his clothes. A relieved smile appeared on Draco's face. Molly Weasley searched his pale face and cocked her head. Any person who arrived at her house in this weather deserved some kindness in her book. She began scurrying around and the sound of cutlery being taken out of the drawer filled the kitchen. "Have you had breakfast? Sausage? Bacon? Tea?"

"Give him a chance to talk," Ron said sharply and stood up from his chair. Mrs Weasley stopped whatever she was doing and turned around to look at her son. He placed his hands on the table and leant over it. Anybody else could have made it look threatening. Hermione thought it looked arrogant more than anything. "He can start by telling us _why_ the bloody hell he is here!"

"Ron has a point," spoke Harry. His green eyes had fixed on his nemesis though he was not as defensive as Ron. Harry's gaze briefly flashed in the direction of Ginny at this side, who was rubbing her swollen tummy. Her dark eyes were blazing in a similar way as her brothers. He then noticed Kingsley did not seem surprised at all and he looked at the Minister of Magic. "What's Malfoy doing here?"

"He approached me last night, not long after Hermione arrived at the Manor," Kingsley said and Draco Malfoy hesitantly walked into the dining room. He walked up to Kingsley and stood still at his side. His grey eyes momentarily found Hermione's. Their paths had never crossed inside the Manor after Hermione arrived but he had seen her come in as he watched from one of the windows. "He informed me he had overheard the conversation between me, Hermione and his mother earlier that day and he wanted to offer us his help."

"I have no intention of joining sides with the Dark Lord for a second time," Draco answered without making eye contact with anyone. He stared at the floor and could feel the disapproval over his presence. He did not need to look them in the eye to know he was not wanted. "No matter what my family is like."

"I wonder how much of this has to do with the fact that Miss Astoria Greengrass never sided with Voldemort and she and her family eventually spoke out against the Death Eaters," Ron sneered and Draco's head snapped up at the mention of his fiancée's name. His grey eyes met Ron's and they stared at each other. The tension filled the room. "Has she ever actually seen that tattoo on your arm or have you been lying to her for the last few years? What did you tell her, the good old Imperius lie?"

"Stop it, Mr Weasley," Minerva McGonagall said unexpectedly and Ron fell silent. "It does not matter what reasons Mr Malfoy has to join us here this morning. What matters is that he has now chosen to side with the Order and he may be able to provide us with useful information in the future."

"Got a brain cell after all?" Ron snapped and Draco sighed in defeat. "Listen, I can put up with this rat being here but don't expect me to trust him!"

"We can argue about trust another time," Hermione said harshly and slowly she stood up. An uneasy feeling overwhelmed her and she slowly walked to the window. Out there the world was changing. She pressed her nose against the cold glass and took deep breath. Dark shadows seemed to move in the strands of mist and she swallowed. Slowly she turned to look at the people sitting around the table. "We have no time. Voldemort may very well be back already. Right at this moment he and Bellatrix Lestrange are calling on their old Death Eater friends and other allies. By tomorrow morning..."

"What do we do?" George asked, speaking out the question that rested on the tip of everybody's tongue. Hermione was struck by how mature he suddenly sounded. He had sold the joke shop he had started with Fred before the war and settled down with Angelina. She looked at him, full of surprise and newfound appreciation.

"The Auror office has been mobilised. Protective guards have been placed at Hogwarts and the Fidelius Charm has been placed on the homes of Andromeda Tonks and the Burrow," Kingsley said slowly "Molly and Arthur have been so kind to offer their home as Headquarters for the Order. The story will be printed in the Daily Prophet this morning. Within the next few hours, the whole Wizarding World will know Lord Voldemort has returned and another war is upon us." He paused and the seriousness of his words filled the room, leaving everybody feeling worried and frightened. "We must remain strong and vigilant at all times. Walden MacNair was not the only Death Eater who escaped and I have no doubts other familiar faces will be quick to join the Dark Lord."

Harry looked from Ron to Hermione and the three of them were instantly thrown back into a whirlpool of memories. The moment they had departure to find the Horcruxes lay fresh in all their minds. They all remembered how they had watched Hogwarts burn. "This time round he has no reason to kill me. During the last war there were the Prophecy and the Horcruxes. Now there is nothing that stands between us. We are now just two mortal souls. Dumbledore is dead. Voldemort no longer has a nemesis like he used to have."

"Perhaps that is a good thing," said Mr Weasley and looked at Harry but somehow his words did not sound as comforting as they had been intended. "We can only hope that this time around we will not come as close to losing everything we hold most dear."

Hermione still stood by the window and her gaze drifted back to the grey shapes outside. Everything was about to change. They were all about to be forced into another war, they would have to face themselves all over again. And whenever she stared into a mirror, meeting her own eyes, she knew she had changed. She remembered walking down the marble staircase, back into the room where Bellatrix had tortured her, left her to bleed. And she had curled up right in that spot, that very spot where the raven haired Death Eater had crept under her skin, poisoned her heart. And as she stood there, turned away from everybody and gazing out into the mist, she couldn't help but briefly smile. Bellatrix Lestrange was back.

~()~

The Daily Prophet had arrived only an hour after the meeting was finished. Several owls arrived at once, soaking wet and desperate for warmth and shelter. Hermione sat by the fireplace in the living room of the Burrow, alone, and stared at the front page of the paper. Three quarters of it was taken up by two pictures; one of Voldemort, the other of Bellatrix. And it was Bellatrix Hermione was staring at. The charcoal eyes, the raven curls and the porcelain skin. As real as she remembered it, as intense as she experienced them in her dreams and fantasies. Her head whipped around when she heard footsteps and Harry and Ron appeared. The latter observed Hermione with the paper and their eyes briefly met but Hermione merely stared at him defiantly.

"We need to talk," Harry sat as he sank down on one of the sofas and also glanced at the paper. Ron sat down in one of the arm chairs and looked at his friends. Harry sighed. "What are we going to do?"

"Fight," Hermione said firmly. "Like we did before."

"How?" Ron asked, sounding somewhat desperate. "We don't even know where he is, where he's hiding. Who says it's just him and Bellatrix? There could be dozens of them by now, hundreds maybe."

Harry picked up the paper Hermione had just put down and gazed at the picture of Voldemort. He knew that face as well as he knew his own. He understood the child Tom Riddle had been; the man he had become and even the monster he had turned out to become. And now he was back and he could not find a reason why. What did Voldemort have to gain from being alive again? What was there to find, to finish, after everything had once ended? He shook his head.

"I don't understand," he said slowly and put the paper down. Voldemort's face haunted him even if he did not look at him. "Most of his followers were afraid of him. Why would one of them resurrect him now? It makes no sense!"

"Revenge?" Ron suggested and Harry sent him a curious look. His mate sat up and Hermione realised he had copied some of his father's hand gestured before he spoke. "MacNair has plenty of reasons to hate you. You brought down Voldemort, you destroyed the Death Eaters. He had nothing left. And perhaps he knows he could never finish you off on his own so decided to find a way to bring him back?"

"There is more to it than that. There has to be," Hermione said slowly and she stood up. A dark look had appeared in her eyes and she looked at Harry and Ron. "I need to get back to the Ministry. I'll send you an owl if I find anything."

"What, now?" Ron said in disbelief and pointed at the window. Heavy rain was battering against the glass and thunder and lightning were alternating each other in a steady frequency. "It's raining cats and dogs out there!"

Hermione had slipped on her cloak and snatched the paper from the table, storing it safely in her pocket. She looked at Harry and Ron. Both were staring at her with the same bewilderment they had done in their Hogwarts days whenever she suggested going to the library. "Like Harry said, it makes no sense. There is something we're missing. Something we don't know. I need to find out what that is!"

She hurried out of the living room, through the dining area where Andromeda was talking to Kingsley. Both of them looked up when Hermione walked past. She had pulled up her hood but turned around when she felt Andromeda's eyes pierce in her back. Their gazes locked and Hermione swallowed hard. Andromeda stood up from her chair and walked up to Hermione.

"You spoke to my sister," she said slowly and Hermione nodded. "What did she say?"

"I…" Hermione hesitated, not sure whether she wanted to repeat the words Narcissa had spoken to her about Bellatrix not wanting Andromeda's blood, even if it meant she would never live again. "She did not say much, Andy."

"She said Bellatrix would never accept my blood, didn't she?" Andromeda said slowly and when Hermione's eyes widened in shock and surprise. "I have known my sisters a lot longer, Hermione. And nothing surprises me when it comes to Bellatrix. I am not surprised Narcissa gave him her blood. I expect MacNair originally planned for it to be my blood, knowing how Bellatrix hated me. That knowledge would infuriate her even more."

"Narcissa gave her own blood so Bellatrix would not be angry?" Hermione sounded sceptical. It was almost funny. Bellatrix was filled with hatred. She had seen it burning in her eyes. "Andy, Bellatrix is _always_ in a permanent state of anger. What difference does it make which one of you made the sacrifice?"

"It doesn't make a difference to Bellatrix, but it makes a difference to me," Andromeda said slowly and her friendly hazel eyes connected with Hermione. Hermione felt a shiver creep down her spine and her mouth became unexpectedly dry. Looking at Andromeda was like staring at a softer, kinder version of Bellatrix. Andromeda's lips twitched into a smile. "It means Narcissa wants things to change."

Hermione nodded slowly but did not answer. She glanced at Kingsley, who was looking at her. "I need to get back to my office. There are some things I want to check. You know where to find me."

She turned her back on Kingsley and Andromeda and walked through the kitchen. Mrs Weasley was preparing lunch and looked up when Hermione filed past her and turned around. Dark eyes searched the young brunette's faces and the motherly instincts and the years of raising her children told her something wasn't the way it should be.

"Hermione, dear, is everything all right?" she asked as she dried her hands on an old tea towel.

"Yes, Mrs Weasley," Hermione forced herself to smile and ignored the sense of guilt for lying. "Everything is quite fine. I am just heading back to the Ministry; see if there is anything I can do to help."

"You should come back for tea tonight. Everybody else is coming back," Molly Weasley suggested and Hermione felt her heart sink in her chest. She had been at the Burrow twice in the last few days and it had left her conflicted and torn. Spending time around Ron only irritated her and she knew they had to work together but she wished she could do that by not having to be around them. Her hand slipped in her pocket for her wand and she sighed.

She decided on a compromise. "I will do my best."

With those words she opened the door and revealed the pouring rain outside. Sighing deeply and clutching her wand in her pocket, Hermione stepped out of the Burrow kitchen and into the world outside. It was misty, dull and grey and the rain hammered down on her head. She closed her eyes, called up the employee entrance of the Ministry and turned on the spot. A second later, she was gone.

~()~

It was unusually busy in The Atrium. Fireplaces were roaring up green every few seconds, revealing a different witch or wizard every time. She recognised some of their faces; co-workers, people she had once seen walking through the corridors of Hogwarts. The anxiety level was high. She had seen those frightened expressions before; the eyes filled with fear. Hermione felt alive being a part of the large moving group as she walked towards the lifts, even though she was surrounded by fear. Reaching the lifts she joined the orderly cue of waiting people and realised that perhaps her own eyes were the only ones not nervously wandering.

After the war the departments at the Ministry had been rearranged and Hermione took the lift to level three before stepping out. Walking into the Department for the Safeguarding of Magical Artefacts she found that it was busy here too Every desk, every office, was full and she smiled to herself when she realised her staff had come in to work and were assisting the Auror office in whatever they needed. She opened the door to her office and stepped inside. After having securely locked it behind her, she immediately walked to her personal quarters and once inside waved her wand and two large bookcases magically swung aside, revealing a large, black vault. There was no safer place than Gringotts but Hermione believed in something safer; herself.

She tapped the vault with her wand, drawing a picture that had become part of her life in a way nobody would ever understand. It was the shape of a skull with a snake for its tongue. It was how she knew nobody would ever be able to open it. She watched it spring open and inside rested a solid silver box on top of some old newspapers and files. Hermione reached for it and picked it up, carrying it to the small table by the fire. She sat down and carefully removed the lid. There, inside, lay the reasons why Voldemort was dead.

Tom Riddle's destroyed diary, still stained by the ink that had poured from its magical heart where the Basilisk fang had pierced it. Next to it lay the golden ring with the black stone. It was Marvolo Gaunt's ring, destroyed by Dumbledore long before anyone truly realised what lay ahead of them. Hermione's fingers trembled as she picked up Slytherins locket and let the chain run through her fingers. Her breath chocked in her throat when she put it back down and let her fingers caress what was left of Hufflepuff's cup. She had been the one to destroy it. And she had become Bellatrix to find it. Her eyes fluttered shut as the sensation of feeling, _being,_ the dark witch washed over her. The next item was a single blue gemstone. It was all that was left of Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem. The gemstone had been found after the war, in what had been the Room of Requirement. Hermione didn't pick it up but merely looked at it. The very last item was a shrunken head of a snake, contained inside a magical class orb. Nagini had perhaps been Voldemort's most loyal pet. Hermione sighed. The Horcruxes were always with her though nobody knew exactly where. Seeing them lying in the box reminded her of what they were facing; Voldemort's hatred for his own twisted self-image that made him hate himself, what he had been, what others were and how he loathed them.

Hermione's hand slipped in her pocket and she took the newspaper she had picked up at the Burrow. She used her wand and carefully cut out the image of Bellatrix Lestrange. Holding the woman's face tenderly in her hands she placed it inside the tin before putting the lid back on. She sighed and placed it back in the vault. She watched how it locked itself and the bookcases moved back into place. She stared at the books for a moment and then turned around and walked back into her office. She sat behind her desk and closed her eyes.

She thought about the conversation she had had with Harry and Ron back at the Burrow. The idea that Walden MacNair had simply helped Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange rise from the dead to get back at Harry made no sense. She rested her head in her hands and desperately tried to erase the raven haired witch's image from her mind.

~()~

"A new dawn awaits us, my friends," spoke the Dark Lord with a low, intense voice. His red eyes were alive with the same fire as they had been before. In the orange gloom of the fire his skin appeared see through. "I stand before you all as I have risen from the darkest depths of death. It has been too long since we were all together. I see the years have been most unkind to you."

The group watching him was small. He had counted only ten faces. Ten of his loyal servants had returned when he called for them. Their eyes, all flickering in the dim light of the room, watched their Master. The table held enough spaces for more of them but a large number of chairs were empty. The walls were bare, made out of solid stone. The only light came from the fire. All windows had been covered by dark curtains. No daylight from the outside world fell in. The darkness had begun.

"It has come to my attention that Harry Potter is still alive. The Boy Who Lived took everything I held most dear and left me to ferment in the pits of hell. And I look upon you all and ask why none of you in my absence even as much as injured the boy. But I have been told he is expecting a child. Another filthy disgusting half-blood to befoul this Earth" said Voldemort and looked around. The faces at the table were familiar. Bellatrix sat immediately to his right. His most faithful and loyal servant. However, she was looking at the table, not at him. "Harry Potter must die."

"My Lord," spoke a man who sat to Bellatrix's right. Lucius Malfoy's blonde hair fell down his back and he sat up straight, his hands neatly folded onto the table. "I rest assured I speak for all of us when I say we are honoured to have you back among us." His grey eyes searched for the man sitting to Voldemort's left.

"Silence, Lucius!" Voldemort snarled and silence followed. "Once again you disappointed me by not seeking a way for me to return and yet you still may prove yourself useful. Am I correct in understanding your wife has spoken to the Mudblood?"

"Yes, My Lord," Lucius whispered softly, without making eye contact. Bellatrix's head whipped up at the mention of the Mudblood and she gazed at Voldemort. Memories flooded back into her mind and a devious grin spread across her lips. Lust ignited in her eyes and she glanced at Lucius. He briefly allowed himself to meet Bellatrix's eyes. "In fact she was present at the Manor the night the sacrifice was made."

Bellatrix leant back in her chair. The tip of her tongue licked along her lips and her dark eyes fixed on her master. "My Lord, I will deal with the Mudblood."


	8. Voices In The Dark

**Chapter 8**

Hermione switched off the lights in the living room of her downtown London apartment. It was late, well past midnight. It had not stopped raining all day and she could still hear it hammering against the glass. She sighed, standing in the comforting darkness and her eyes drifted to the window. A full moon, she thought to herself. Full moons were associated with madness and all sorts of other strange and dark activities. The fact that Voldemort's new era started with a full moon left her feeling uncomfortable. She cocked her head and frowned as she heard a strange sound outside. Taking her wand from the back pocket of her jeans she slowly walked to the window. Earlier today Kingsley had offered to place a Fidelius Charm on her home. She had refused.

When she reached the window Hermione peered outside. The streets were abandoned. Yellow streetlamps cast small oceans of light into the darkness. Parked cars, most of them expensive looking with newly issues license plates, lined either side of the road. This part of London was quite a well off neighbourhood. Most of the apartments in the old Victorian buildings were owned by people in their twenties and thirties with high level jobs, good salaries and matching attitude. Hermione had managed to blend in quite well. Nobody in her building as much as suspected she was a witch.

Staring into the pouring rain, Hermione's eyes narrowed. Something caught her eye, a quick moving shadow between two cars. Clutching her wand a little tighter, she pressed her face against the cold glass. Whatever it had been, it seemed to have disappeared. She sighed. Perhaps just some poor stray cat that was seeking shelter from the storm.

Hermione turned away from the window and walked through the living room into the hallway where one of the three doors led to her bedroom. She stepped into the room, not bothering to turn on the light and walked around the bed, putting her wand down on the bedside table. Her fingers began pulling up the hooded jumper she was wearing but just as she exposed her stomach, another sound started her and she spun around, facing the window. This part of the apartment looked out onto what was considered to be a communal garden. It consisted of a small lawn, a barbecue and an expensive furniture set. She could not remember the last time anybody used it. Hermione approached the window and looked outside. The raindrops on the glass cruelly disfigured her reflection. But her eyes were drawn to some of the flower pot arrangements the girl in the apartment above her made. There were a few, scattered around the garden. But one now lay broken, its shards spread across the mosaic tiles.

She grabbed her wand from the bedside table, slipped into her sleeve and walked out of her bedroom. Hermione opened the front door and stepped out into the corridor. The apartment building was covered in silence. Most of her neighbours had gone to bed. Busy and high end jobs required the ultimate devotion. She began making her way down the flights of stairs and eventually found herself standing on the ground floor. Hermione's fingers closed around the cold, metal door handle that provided entrance to the communal garden and she opened it. The rain was pouring down and she wished she had grabbed a coat. She pulled up the hood from her jumper to cover her hair. Stepping out into the bitter cold night, the wind took her breath away.

She held still by the broken pot, looked over her shoulder to make sure all the windows were dark and took her wand from her sleeve. "Reparo."

She watched with a bemused smile how the shards fix themselves back into place, followed by the soil and the flowers. A few seconds later it looked like nothing had happened. She used a levitation charm to put it back where it had stood before and just as she was about to turn away, her body now soaked by the unforgiving rain, the sound of a snapping twig made her spin back around. Hazel eyes scanned the garden. It was fenced off and in the far right corner there was a shed with tools nobody ever used. As she stood still, the rain hammering down on her head, she could sense she was not alone.

"Hello?" she called, careful not to be so loud she would alarm her sleeping neighbours.

"Well, well, well," spoke a woman's voice from the darkness and Hermione felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She knew that voice. Desperately her eyes snapped around but she could not see anyone else here beside herself. "Look what we have here. If it isn't the dirty little Mudblood Granger."

Hermione's teeth sank into her bottom lip and her heart hammered against her ribcage. She clutched her wand but she didn't know what good it would do using it, being surrounded by Muggles. She stood nailed to the ground, her eyes still looking around. There was a soft thud to her right, as if something had landed onto the grass, but when she looked there was nothing there. The sound of footsteps came from her right but still she saw nothing. She took in a sharp breath. "It is considered most impolite to not appropriately announce one's self when visiting another's home, Bellatrix."

Her heart jumped up when there was another thud, louder this time, about three feet further down the garden. Hermione didn't know whether to be afraid or angry when, from out the darkness, a shadow emerged, strolling casually across the grass. Bellatrix Lestrange almost seemed to prowl, like a predator seeking out its prey, and suddenly the full moon illuminated her pale face and Hermione was faced with the charcoal eyes she saw in her dreams night after night. The raven haired Death Eater was drenched, her black curls stuck to her porcelain skin. The raindrops on her cheeks almost looked like tears. She twirled her wand through her fingers and her eyes fixed on Hermione. She cocked her head and pouted.

"Well, I am here now, aren't I?" she mocked her. "Besides, I am sure you and I are well beyond the introduction phase, Granger."

Hermione swallowed. She did not understand why Bellatrix did not simply attack her. It was unlike the deranged Death Eater to talk to her prey. The palms of her hands became sweaty and she stared at the older woman, mesmerised by the dangerous combination of beauty and death. Looking at Bellatrix was like experiencing the painful release, night after night. "To what do I owe the misfortune of finding you here tonight?"

"No need to be so rude," Bellatrix corrected her and she reached Hermione. There were only a few inches apart and in the silver moonlight Bellatrix looked strangely rejuvenated for someone who had not long been raised from the dead. If she didn't know better she would have believed Bellatrix had not died at all. Hermione found herself searching the darker witch's face. "I waited a long time to see you again."

"If you would have just knocked on the front door I wouldn't have to stand out here in the rain and get wet," Hermione sneered, surprised by the strangely civil conversation. Bellatrix had not even attempted to hex or capture her. She arched an eyebrow. "What? No Cruciatus Curse to welcome yourself back into the world of the living? No fierce battle? You have lost your ways, Bellatrix. Did MacNair forget to resurrect your brain?"

Unexpectedly Bellatrix launched forward and her and struck Hermione roughly across her cheek with her wand. The pain was sharp and her head spun sideways on impact. When she looked back, Bellatrix had moved even closer, her face now mere inches away from Hermione. Her breath was warm against Hermione's skin and her full lips brushed along Hermione's ear. "Hold your tongue, Mudblood!"

"Physical violence over magic," Hermione bit back, without a trace of fear in her voice. "How very unlike you."

Bellatrix's fingers closed around Hermione's wrists with such force that the young brunette could feel her bone snap. Tears sprung into her eyes as the pain rushed through her, leaving her sickened and in agony. She stared at Bellatrix, who stared back at her in an odd mixture of pleasure and curiosity. For a moment it was like being back at Malfoy Manor, before she had been pinned to the ground. They had stared into each other's eyes for the briefest of moments. As her fingers slipped from Hermione's broken wrist, Bellatrix grabbed the sleeve of her jumper and roughly revealed the pale flesh of Hermione's skin, exposing the silver scars. A twisted smirk spread across her face.

"I see you remember," she said, licking her full lips. She briefly placed her lips against Hermione's cheek, causing her skin to instantly burn under the touch. "Now listen to me carefully, mudblood. The Dark Lord wants Potter and you will get him for me."

Hermione lifted up her chin and arrogantly looked at Bellatrix. She felt the dark witch's wand poke into her side. Her own wand still rested between her now limp and cold fingers. Her wrist was thumping and she could feel the swelling. Bellatrix could kill her in a split second, silently but painfully. They would find her body in the morning and nobody would know what had happened. "Now why would I bring Harry to you?"

Bellatrix let her free hand trail up Hermione's arm, her waist, briefly caressed the swell of her breast and then up to her cheek. It could have been a caressing touch if it had not been for the deranged look in those charcoal eyes. Unexpectedly soft lips kissed the corner of Hermione's mouth, licking along the shape of her bottom lip. Hermione felt herself stiffen up and froze. Bellatrix tongue was warm against her lips. "Because you want me to come back."

With that, she vanished into the darkness. Her shadow evaporated into nothing, leaving a panting Hermione alone and soaking wet. She stood for a few moments, out of breath and bewildered and stared at the spot where Bellatrix had been standing just a mere few seconds ago. Then, as if a dam had been opened, her body exploded into a rush of emotions and Hermione spun around, yielding her wand, and rushed back into the apartment building. She fled up the stairs, taking several steps at a time, and slammed the front door behind her. She stripped off her wet clothes, leaving them in a pile by the bedroom door and rushed to the bathroom. First, she fell to her knees by the toilet and heaved, emptying her stomach into the porcelain bowl. Whatever small amounts of food she had consumed were now unpleasantly staring back at her. She staggered to her feet and turned on the shower. The steam rising from the hot water filled the room.

Hermione's eyes were drawn to her wrist. It was clear it was broken but she was too unfamiliar with healing spells to fix it. She opened the medicine cabinet and found the small bottle of painkillers. She took two, swallowed them down with a large gulp of cold water from the tap and then stepped into the shower. Naked and in pain she stood under the hot water as it flowed down on her and she could not restrain herself. Her heart was racing in her chest and she squeezed her eyes tight shut. Desperate, hungry fingers trailed down her breasts, circling her quickly hardening nipples before dipping into the moist core between her legs. The tips of her fingers were slick and sticky with her juices and she moaned softly, her touches becoming more and more desperate. And eventually the name rolled from her lips as she reached her orgasm

_Bellatrix._

She couldn't stop. She could not stop the desperate longing inside. She could still feel Bellatrix's lips, hot against her flesh. She could still feel her breath, burning against her skin. Her fingers slipped through the moisture between her legs effortlessly, dipping deep inside herself as she arched her back. The water flowed down the valley between her breasts, down to the triangle between her legs where it mixed itself with her juices. Her tears laced with the water as she cried before crashing into another earth shattering orgasm. Her knees buckled and she dropped to the floor of the shower, reduced to a crying, trembling mess. And there she sat and wept because no water could wash away the guilt.

~()~

It was still early and it was a crisp and chilly morning. Hermione found herself standing outside the Burrow and hesitantly knocked the front door. The pain in her wrist made her sick. It was swollen and had turned a mean shade of blue. Not even a whole bottle of painkillers could numb the pain. She waited for the front door to open and looked up into the face of Molly Weasley, her red hair still damp from her morning shower. When she discovered Hermione standing outside, clutching her broken wrist, she quickly stepped aside and watched the brunette walk into the kitchen.

"Oh dear, what have you done to your wrist?" Molly asked in a way only a mother could and Hermione looked up at her. It was why she had come here; the home like safety of the Burrow. Molly carefully took Hermione by her other arm and led her into the dining area. "Come; let me have a look at it, dear. Come, it's quite all right. I am sure we can fix it. Andy, could you go and fetch me my wand, it is in the living room."

Hermione only realised that there was a third person in the room when Andromeda stood up and hurried into the living room to get Molly's wand. When she returned her gaze fell on Hermione's wrist and dark brown eyes looked at the young brunette. "Hermione, what happened?"

"I tripped over some books last night and I didn't know how to fix it. It was late and I didn't want to bother anybody," Hermione lied and flinched as Molly's fingers gently pressed down on the ugly lump on her wrist to determine the location of the fracture. "I took some painkillers and went to bed. When I woke up this morning it looked like this"

"Got it," Molly said with a smile. "I think I can fix this without you needing to see a Healer, Hermione." She placed the tip of her wand on Hermione's swollen wrist and used a silent incantation. A bright silver glow surrounded Hermione's wrist and made it feel warm. There was a sharp shot of pain, followed by a snapping sound as the fracture was moved back in place. She bit down on her tongue not to cry in pain. It quickly stopped and she looked up to Molly, smiling thankfully.

"Good as new," Molly said with a smile. "I can't remember how many wrists, arms and toes I have fixed. Somehow there seemed to be a broken bone every two days in this household when the kids were little. Now, do you want some breakfast, Hermione? I expect Arthur, Kingsley and Minerva any minute."

"Is there a meeting?" Hermione sounded puzzled and she glanced over her shoulder, watching Molly as she scurried around the kitchen to make breakfast preparations. She could not remember an Order meeting being planned for this morning. Her eyes then briefly focused on Andromeda, who sat beside her at the table and up till now had been staring at her wrist. The dark haired witch was looking at Hermione curiously, as if she was seeing something nobody else had seen.

"No meeting. Just things to talk about," Molly said and the tone of her voice betrayed there was something she wasn't telling Hermione. The brunette wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that Andromeda was here this early. She was about to say something when the sound of a shattering mug made her look back up Molly cursed under her breath. She turned around and found Hermione looking at her.

"The first unconfirmed sighting of my sister was reported this morning," Andromeda said and Hermione's head whipped back round to look at the other woman. "Up till now we had no solid leads on whether the process had been completed but it would appear to have happened. She was spotted by an Auror who was on his way home in London last night"

"London," Hermione breathed and she realised Bellatrix must have been seen near her house. She narrowed her eyes. "Andy, is the Auror office watching my apartment?"

"Hermione, I..." Andromeda began but Hermione shook her head. She was not in the mood to be lied to. Andromeda admitted defeat. "Ron suggested that Bellatrix might come looking for you after what happened at the Manor. He reckons she might target you. Arthur and Kingsley then decided that for the time being the Auror office would keep an eye on your apartment. Others are watching Harry's house but I doubt Voldemort will be knocking on their front door."

Hermione ran her fingers through her hair. She could not quite believe what she was hearing. She was being watched because of Ron. She hissed through clenched teeth: "And exactly _why _didn't anybody feel the need to tell me about this?"

"That is something you will have to discuss with Arthur and Kingsley," Andromeda said kindly but her dark eyes looked at Hermione. A little smile appeared on her face. Right at this moment she looked nothing like Bellatrix but Hermione could see the similar traits in her face; the exact same shape of their eyes, the same thick curls and the same shape of their lips. "Listen Hermione, I have seen those bruises before. The fracture looked very familiar. My mother healed that very same fracture several times when I was a little girl."

Hermione leant in; making sure Molly could not overhear the conversation. "What are you saying?"

"Bellatrix enjoyed inflicting pain on others. The first time she figured out what she could do with her bare hands was when she broke my wrist when I was eight," Andromeda said slowly and arched an eyebrow when she watched Hermione go pale. "She broke it seven times after that. Narcissa's too."

"I tripped over some books," Hermione said defiantly and averted her gaze. Her fingers caressed the healed fracture and she sighed, nibbling on her bottom lip. "Perhaps I should go. I mean, they are having a meeting so there are obviously things to discuss." She pushed her chair backwards and avoided Andromeda as she attempted to take hold of her arm. "I'll see you around, Andy."

She walked into the kitchen and just as she was about to say goodbye, the door flung open and Arthur Weasley, Minerva McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt walked in. They all looked somewhat rattled and Hermione froze when she met Minerva's eyes. She had seen that look before, during the way, when the unknowing hung over their heads. Molly, who had been cutting up pieces of toast, turned around too and her dark brown eyes filled with fear.

"Who?" she said softly and tears could be heard in her voice. She approached her husband and grabbed his hand. A solemn atmosphere filled the kitchen. Behind them, Andromeda appeared from the dining area. Molly stared at her husband. "Oh Arthur, who?"

"H-Horace," Arthur breathed and Molly gasped. "They found his body this morning."

Hermione's throat suddenly became dry. Horace Slughorn had been the Potions teacher at Hogwarts for the past few years, having come out of retirement to please Albus Dumbledore. She could not imagine him being dead. With his cheerful laughter and his ability to tell entertaining stories he made for a great diner guest. When she had been a student she had not liked how he favourite some students over others but it had bothered her a lot less recently. He had been able to tell her a lot about Bellatrix as a student, mistaking her curiosity for interest instead of desire. She did not move, stood frozen to the ground. She felt hollow and empty inside.

"Horace," Molly whispered and tears trickled down her face. "Good old Horace. What happened?"

"His house was a mess. It had been completely trashed. Someone took the effort of burning all his prized pictures," Kingsley said slowly and Hermione remembered how Horace Slughorn had cherished the memories of his former students. "I know he said before the Death Eaters wanted him to help them. He always refused. It would appear that this time they did not take no for an answer."

Hermione swallowed. "I-I need to go see Harry."

Everybody nodded, under the impression that she wanted to see Harry because of what they had just learnt. But as she walked out of the kitchen and stepped out of the house, Hermione didn't even know why she wanted to see Harry. Bellatrix had been clear. Voldemort wanted him. And already people around them were dying because of it. Before it had torn Harry apart to watch his friends die. She wondered how much he could take. She turned on the spot and Dissaparated.

Reappearing outside the country house Harry shared with Ginny, their two tabby cats and a golden retriever, Hermione ran to the front door. Her lungs pressed against her ribcage and her heart hammered in her chest. The door swung open and Harry stood in the hall, practically stopping her from falling into the house. He had seen her arrive and had recognised the look in her eyes; she had looked at him that way many times when they had been at Hogwarts. Seeing the stressful look in her eyes he grabbed her hand and forced her to look at him. Intense green eyes glistened behind his glasses. "What happened?"

"Slughorn is dead. Aurors found his body this morning. The Death Eaters trashed his house and killed him," Hermione said desperately and Harry's hand slipped from her arm. He stared at her, seeing the tears in her eyes. A sense of helplessness washed over him. It had begun. "Voldemort is looking for you. He is after you again, Harry. He will stop at nothing." She paused, remembering what she heard this morning. "Bellatrix Lestrange was seen in London last night. When were you going to tell me the Auror office is watching my house?"

"Because Ron is worried about you," said Ginny. She had appeared from the living area, looking tired. There were dark rings around her eyes and Hermione could not blame her for being tired and worried about what was happening. Her red hair fell in a messy pile down her shoulders. "After what happened at Malfoy Manor and all."

"Why is everybody so concerned about me and that bloody Bellatrix Lestrange?" Hermione shrieked and pointed at Harry. "It is Harry we should worry about. Voldemort is after him again, for whatever sick reason! And everybody is just going on about Bellatrix. Who knows, she might just as well have been sightseeing in London last night. You know, got lost on her way to Westminster Abbey or something."

"Hermione," Harry begun, ignoring Hermione's feeble attempt at a sense of humour at this dark hour. "Ron is just worried."

"Ron? Are you telling me Brainless Weasley actually placed these Aurors outside my house? For Merlin's sake, Harry! You might as well just put Ron outside my front door! What's next, an electronic ankle bracelet and a personal escort whenever I leave the house? Because I am sure Ron would love to know what I'm up to!" Hermione argued. Her hazel eyes were blazing. "He is just trying to get himself back into my life." She turned to look at Ginny, who seemed stunned at Hermione's unexpected outburst. "Feel free to tell him to piss off!"

"I'll talk to Ron," Harry said slowly before Ginny had a chance to interject. Hermione's eyes snapped back in his direction. He raised his hands up in defeat. "I'll see what I can do, all right?"

"Those Aurors are way better off used to actually fight Voldemort instead of standing guard outside my house. I'm sure they'd feel happier too if they were actually doing something productive," Hermione sighed and shook her head. "What the hell is he thinking? Besides, isn't he supposed to be seeing some girl from Magical Law Enforcement?"

"She ran off," Ginny said rather matter of fact and Hermione suppressed a snort. Ginny pulled a face. "Come on, let's get some tea."

"There seemed to be some kind of meeting this morning at your parents' house," Hermione said as she followed Ginny into their large country kitchen. As she sat down at the large table she felt something furry jump onto her lap and looked down to find Salem, one of the tabby cats, curl himself into a ball whilst purring loudly. "A lot of people were there when I left but nobody seemed too eager to tell me what was going on."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

"We're not fifteen anymore, are we?" Ginny said. She was clearly talking about the times when the Order had just been reformed and they were all staying at Grimmauld Place. She turned back to the cooker and put the old fashioned kettle on. She had gotten used to doing things the Muggle way, without magic, and she actually quite enjoyed it.

Hermione absentmindedly gazed out of the kitchen window whilst Ginny made tea and just hoped that Harry would remove the Aurors watching her house. The next time Bellatrix paid a visit, and Hermione was convinced there would be a next time, she did not want to the Aurors to see her. If Bellatrix came back she did not want to be disturbed; she didn't want her to leave.


	9. Bridges To Nowhere

**Chapter 9**

_The broken locks were a warning_  
_You got inside my head_  
_~Lifehouse - Broken_

The world around them changed quickly as the days began to pass. Day after day it rained, lashing violently against bedroom windows and hammering down onto the roofs of houses. Muggle weather forecasters desperately tried to explain the change in weather patterns and put it down to some phenomenon coming in from the Gulf Stream. Within days most trees had been stripped from their leaves, their bare branches now reaching up to the grey, misty skies like bony fingers. Shadows emerged as darkness fell and even Muggles no longer left their houses as soon as the sun had set. It was as if the world had travelled back in time seven years. Disappearances happened every day; houses were found abandoned when dawn broke, their front doors wide open but not a single soul in sight. Muggles were found dead in their beds and Muggle papers complained over gas companies; it seemed there had been a surge in carbon monoxide poisonings throughout the country. The wizards knew better. Killing Curses didn't leave marks.

Azkaban prison experienced a break out after being attacked by a flock of Death Eaters. They killed whoever stood in their way, leaving only a very few alive; mostly by chance, not by choice. The cell doors were opened and the darkest and brutal wizards and witches were released into a world that would soon succumb under their mayhem. Within weeks of rising from the dead, Lord Voldemort's army grew. From thousands of miles away creatures appeared, fighting along the side of their master once more. It was only a matter of time before the true battle for survival would tell them who would live and who would die.

The Auror office spent a lot of time configuring and erasing memories of poor unfortunate Muggles who witnessed battles between Death Eaters and Ministry employees in their front gardens or those who saw the Dark Mark in the sky above houses. The Muggle newspapers reported on the strange events that happened across the country and the world, including a tsunami in Australia and a massive earth quake in New York City. Some came to the conclusion the world was about to end. Hermione sometimes thought that perhaps they were not wrong.

It had been nearly two weeks since the night Bellatrix cornered her in the garden and Hermione found herself longingly gazing out of windows, into the pouring rain. Harry had convinced Ron there was no need for the Aurors and he had reluctantly given in. In those same two weeks Draco Malfoy had proven himself to be an asset to the Order, holding details and information about Voldemort dating back to the previous war. But the information was useful now and, in some cases, helped the Order stop some of the attacks before they had happened.

Hermione looked around the table. They were all sitting in the Burrow's dining room. The meeting had not long finished and people were talking amongst themselves. Over the past few days their voices had been reduced to whispers and their eyes became wearier. Draco was talking to Arthur and Kingsley, watched intently by Andromeda. Up till the moment he walked through the Burrow's door she had never met her nephew and the more she watched him, the more he reminded her of her sister.

"Andy?" Hermione questioned and the darker haired witch's eyes snapped in her direction. When she met Hermione's eyes a tentative smile appeared on her lips. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

She stood up and waited for Andromeda to do the same. They left the dining room and found a quiet place in the living room, by the fire. Hermione stared into the dancing flames for a little while before glancing at the older woman at her side. Andromeda too seemed mesmerized by the flames. They were so delicate and yet so dangerous. Fire created both warmth and pain. Even the flames reminded Hermione of Bellatrix. In this room, in the dim light, the resemblance between the two witches struck her and she felt her throat become dry. Andromeda's eyes found hers and she arched an eyebrow.

"What is it you see, Hermione?" she questioned after having observed the brunette for a few seconds. She had noticed how Hermione scrutinized her from across the room every so often, clearly seeing something that brought life into her eyes.

"Your sister," Hermione answered softly, without averting her eyes. "Both of them"

When Andromeda didn't answer she swallowed. Something Andromeda said a few weeks ago had been going round and round in her head for some time. She needed to understand what she meant. Perhaps it was the only way they would get any answers. "You said that after Narcissa made the sacrifice, she did so for your sake because she wants things to change. What did you mean by that?"

"The knowledge of me being the one who aided in her resurrection would have made Bellatrix furious. She would have been out to kill me. Narcissa knows this. Her decision to give her blood instead meant that, relatively speaking, I am safer. She would rather be in Bellatrix's debt than live with the fear that she'd come for me," Andromeda answered slowly. "My sister's hatred runs deep, Hermione."

"So I've noticed," Hermione answered without thinking. "What do you think our chances are with Narcissa? She watched her only child almost kill himself in the last war. I had expected her to come looking for Draco by now. Surely she must know where he is. I was under the impression she loathed the Dark Lord as much as we did. She chose her own family over him. It's why she saved Harry."

The story about what really happened the moment Narcissa Malfoy had been asked to confirm Harry was indeed dead was a story known to very few. Hermione had entrusted Andromeda in the weeks of the aftermath in an attempt to soften some of the pain she felt after the loss of her daughter. The mention of it now made Andromeda's eyes glaze over. They heard the voices coming from the dining room but neither of them spoke.

"I don't know, Hermione," Andromeda answered and sad dark brown eyes met Hermione's. "Narcissa has always been somewhat difficult to understand."

"Not as difficult as Bellatrix," Hermione muttered and ran her fingers through her hair. She took a deep breath and glanced at the darker haired witch. There was intensity in her eyes Andromeda had not seen before. "I need you to trust me and I need you to promise me you won't tell Kingsley where I'm going."

"Hermione, what..."

"I am going to see Narcissa. If her husband has joined the Dark Lord, and we know he has because he has been seen with Death Eaters several times, she will be conflicted. If someone asks her to choose between her husband and her son..."

"And her sister..."

_Bellatrix._ It all just seemed to come back to her.

"Andy, somebody has to talk to her. We warned her when everything happened. I think we owe her at least some form of a choice, don't you think?" Hermione said and took her wand from her pocket. She summoned her cloak and put it on. Andromeda nervously watched her, not sure whether she approved of the idea. But Hermione's hazel eyes pierced into Andromeda's darker orbs and she tried to smile. "_Trust_ me."

"We don't even know if Malfoy Manor is safe," Andromeda tried to argue, following Hermione out of the living room and into the kitchen. The younger witch had already opened the front door, revealing the pouring rain outside. She took Hermione's arm. "Hermione, wait!"

"We have waited long enough, Andy. Somebody has to do something and thinking up strategies whilst sitting around a table isn't going to stop Voldemort!" Hermione said desperately. Raindrops were trickling down her face. Adrenaline rushed through her veins and she looked at the older woman. She looked so much like Bellatrix right at this very moment that it hurt. She felt sick to her stomach. "I'll see you when I get back."

She turned on the spot and disappeared into the night. Andromeda stood in the open door, looking at the rain, when Minerva appeared behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Where did Hermione go?"

"To commit suicide."

~()~

Malfoy Manor looked haunting when Hermione appeared outside the gates. To her surprise they swung open as she approached and she began the walk up the long path leading to the front door. It was still raining and the gravel snapped under her boots. Upon reaching the wooden doors they too swung open and revealed the candle lit entrance hall. Hermione stepped inside, bringing with her small pools of water, and removed her hood. Her eyes wandered around her surroundings to find she was alone. The sound of footsteps echoed through the Manor and Hermione's eyes snapped in the direction of the stairs. Narcissa was standing half way down, looking at her.

"Miss Granger," she said haughtily and made no attempts to greet her. The look in her eyes was bone chilling and yet Hermione could see the blushes on her cheeks even from where she was standing. "To what do I owe the honour of your company tonight?"

"We need to talk."

"You could not find a more convenient hour to do so?" Narcissa answered sharply and very slowly she began the remainder of her descent down the stairs. Her slim fingers caressed the marble banister. "Those of a saner mind usually find themselves asleep at midnight, Miss Granger."

"That would explain why neither of us is sleeping then," Hermione retorted quickly and Narcissa blinked. "It is about your sister and about your son."

"Draco?" Narcissa questioned and Hermione detected the quiver in her voice. When Narcissa reached her it was clear her eyes had widened with fear. She searched Hermione's face. "Is he all right?"

"Oh yes, he is quite fine. I think he rather enjoys the company of the Order and he certainly appreciates Mrs Weasley's cooking," Hermione said, knowing full well that the Malfoys considered the Weasleys to be blood traitors of the worst kind. Mentioning how Draco enjoyed their company to Narcissa would be a blow for the older witch. "In fact, I think it may have been the first time I have ever seen him smile."

"Enough!" Narcissa hissed through clenched teeth. Her dark eyes pierced into Hermione's. "You are either very brave of very stupid for coming here, Miss Granger. Surely by now you must know about the predicament we find ourselves in?"

"Oh we are very much aware," Hermione said slowly, without any inclination of letting Narcissa get the better of her. "This is what brings me here tonight. Your son has made his choice. He has remembered the only reason he is not in Azkaban, or dead, is because of what you did that night. The only reason you still live between these walls instead of a vermin filled cell in Azkaban is because of your betrayal of the Dark Lord. How can you stand here and watch the world go to hell again?"

"How dare you..." Narcissa began but her voice trailed off at the sound of shrieking gates and her eyes snapped back at Hermione. She grabbed the younger witch's arm and began climbing back up the stairs. Hermione was struggling to free herself but Narcissa turned to look at her. Her voice was deadly serious. "Miss Granger, unless you want to die a most painful death I suggest you do exactly as I say and come with me!"

Hermione's eyes briefly fixed on the wooden front door and realised she could hear gravel snap. She then looked back at Narcissa and allowed the older witch to drag her up the stairs. When they reached the landing Narcissa pushed Hermione down the corridor, in the direction of her own bedroom. Just as she closed the door behind her they could hear the front door open. Over their heads thunder roared and the room was briefly lit up by a yellow flash of lightening. Hermione opened her mouth to speak but Narcissa silenced her by placing her hand over her lips.

The sound of laughter and loud voices rose from the floor below. It was hard to tell how many there were but Hermione suspected there were quite a few. It was difficult to imagine that Malfoy Manor was being used as a hide out again but when she looked at Narcissa she realised it wasn't. The older witch seemed as shocked and frightened as she was and slowly lowered her hand.

"Your questions about my sister will have to wait," she whispered, her lips close to Hermione's ear. A high cackling laughter filled Hermione's ears and a cold shiver crept down her spine. "Unless you want to ask her yourself."

"Come with me, Narcissa," Hermione urgently whispered, grasping hold of Narcissa's arm. "You'll be safe with the Order. They can look after you like they have looked after Draco. Bellatrix can't find you there."

"Like she didn't find you?" Narcissa interjected, leaving Hermione speechless. She watched Hermione's cheeks redden and nodded slowly. The signs were clear. "I see. So she _did_ find you."

"Narcissa..."

"Bellatrix told the Dark Lord she could not find you, Hermione. She stood before him and lied! He punished her and I have never seen her so badly hurt when she came to me!" Narcissa whispered desperately, dragging Hermione further away from the door and in the direction of what Hermione suspected was the connecting bathroom. She had been the one to heal Bellatrix after her punishment. "After Lucius told him you had been here he sent her out to find you."

"Bellatrix lied to Voldemort?" Hermione muttered "Why?"

Narcissa's fingers unexpectedly slipped under Hermione's chin and she forced the brunette to look at her. Tension filled the air around them as their gazes locked. "Because she doesn't like to share her prized possessions."

"Do you mean she is trying to obstruct his plans?"

"Just the one that concerns you. Look at is as Bella's sick way of keeping hold of something that gives her pleasure. She will torture you into insanity, Miss Granger. Do not ever think that whatever my sister does to you, any act of kindness, means something to her. It is merely poison that is intended to kill you slowly," Narcissa said, her fingers now gently caressing the line of Hermione's jaw. Their bodies were pressed close together and the anxiety left them both panting slightly.

A loud cheering followed by laughter rose up from downstairs, followed by a haunting scream that chilled Hermione to the bone. She froze, realising immediately what was happening downstairs. More terrifying screams followed and the sound of the woman's voice brought tears to Hermione's eyes as she imagined her writhing and jerking on the floor, much like she herself had done. She could clearly picture her body, bleeding and exhausted, at the feet of all the Death Eaters, with amusement glistening in their eyes. She was at the mercy of Bellatrix's wand which meant one sure thing; there was no mercy and she would soon beg to die.

"Is this the side you're on?" Hermione hissed, ignoring the gentle touching of her face. "Is this what you want to hear, night after night? Is that monster downstairs the husband you allow in your bed every night after he has washed the blood of yet another innocent victim of his hands?"

"Is the monster that leaves that woman to bleed to death at her feet the same monster you crave for?" Narcissa said slowly and her hand dropped from Hermione's jaw to her arm. Slowly her fingers climbed up, drawing meaningless figures on Hermione's skin. "The same monster that continues to poison you from the inside out?"

Hermione broke free from Narcissa's touch and moved away from her. She was now positively panting and blazing eyes stared at Narcissa. The caressing had stirred something inside of her and the sensation almost made her want to rush down the stairs and throw herself at Bellatrix's feet, leaving herself with nothing but the raven haired woman's mercy. She swallowed hard, feeling sick to her stomach and she shook her head as if to erase her thoughts. "You do not have the right!"

"I know what the Order has to offer, Miss Granger. And I will accept that offer and leave with you tonight," Narcissa said, much to Hermione's surprise. Her voice became strangely low and carried a warning. "But listen to me when I say that my sister is a monster and she will kill you, Hermione. Perhaps not with her bare hands but she will be the death of you!"

Hermione straightened her spine. "I have never been afraid of death."

Narcissa's eyes pierced into Hermione's. "Perhaps you should be."

They stood like this for a few more moments, their bodies close together. Anticipation and anxiety had filled the room. The sounds from downstairs became louder. A brutal party had erupted and Hermione imagined them all drinking wine and mead from the expensive goblets, leaving the poor tortured woman to die on the floor. Her eyes found Narcissa's and she found the older witch gazing back at her. "We need to leave." Her sentence was cut short by the sound of footsteps coming up the marble stairs.

"You should not have come here," Narcissa whispered, grasping hold of Hermione's hand. Her eyes snapped in the direction of the door when the door knob turned and she took a sharp breath in before pushing Hermione away, into the darkest corner of the room. The shadows swallowed her up and Hermione pressed herself against the cold stone wall and held her breath. Her heart hammered violently in her chest and she felt her knees grow weak when she watched Bellatrix walk into Narcissa's bedroom, looking arrogant as always but with a disdainful smile.

"So this is where you have been hiding," Bellatrix purred when she found her sister standing by the bed and reached out a hand. Just before she touched her, her charcoal eyes narrowed. It was as if she had sensed the change in the room and she lowered her voice. "Who else is here, Cissy?"

Hermione bit down on her lip and fought to hold her breath. All Bellatrix had to do was walk towards the bathroom to find her. From where she was standing she could see the two sisters but they could not see her. Her blood was rushing through her veins, sending her into a state of excitement and shock. Her eyes were fixed on the raven haired witch who was now scrutinizing her sister's face, recognising the lie as it grew bigger in Narcissa's eyes.

"No one," Narcissa answered quickly, stumbling over her words. Hermione had expected more from her. Narcissa had lied to Voldemort and yet she failed at lying to her sister. "I heard you arrive and assumed you wanted your privacy. You know how I do not like to intrude on your gatherings."

Bellatrix curiously cocked her head and her dark eyes pierced into Narcissa's. The younger sister stood rigid as the elder one invaded her mind. "You never were very good a lying to me, Cissy." She spun around and took a few steps in the direction of where Hermione was hiding, pressed against the wall. Seeing the dark haired witch approach made her heart race faster and desperate finger searched the cold wall behind her, as if to disappear. Bellatrix's footsteps silenced when she was a mere foot away from the girl hiding in the shadows and her hand slowly slipped into the pocket of her robe and revealed her wand.

"Come out come out wherever you are," Bellatrix sang mockingly and flicked her wand.

An invisible force got hold of Hermione around her waist and began pulling her forwards. She did not resist and instead allowed Bellatrix to drag her into the full light of the room. She looked up just in time to see the darker haired woman's eyes widen at the sight of Hermione. Behind Bellatrix, Narcissa moved in their direction but Bellatrix whipped around, flicked her wand and prevented Narcissa from coming any closer. The sudden pressure change left Hermione finding her balance and she tumbled down onto her knees. Through her eyelashes she peered up at Bellatrix.

"Will you look at this," Bellatrix lisped. Her charcoal eyes glistened with dark, twisted lust as they fixed on Hermione. She stepped forward and stood still in front of Hermione, towering over her. Strong, powerful fingers grasped hold of thick, brown ringlets and forcefully yanked Hermione's head back. Tears sprung into her eyes. Bellatrix cackled as Hermione saw Narcissa's horrified face. "A _mudblood _hiding in my sister's bedroom. Oh what dear Lucius would have to say about that."

"Bella let her go!" Narcissa commanded and attempted to come closer but Bellatrix's invisible magic prevented her from moving nearer. Narcissa drew her own wand and with a strong flick the barrier separating them disappeared. Intense dark eyes briefly met Hermione's eyes before Narcissa averted her gaze. Her voice was strong and powerful. "She is useless!"

"Useless?" Bellatrix answered slowly, her fingers still in Hermione's hair. They trailed through the brown curls down to the base of Hermione's neck, unexpectedly tender and strangely erotic. Hermione suppressed a moan as Bellatrix's finger touched her flesh. "Oh Cissy, this little mudblood is most definitely not useless." Playful fingers now caressed Hermione's cheeks and unexpectedly Hermione's eyes fluttered shut under the touch. "Now, why don't you go see if your fool of a husband has managed to clean up the garbage downstairs?"

"Bella," Narcissa interrupted but her sister spun around without warning, brandishing her wand and aimed it at Narcissa's chest. Fury flickered in her dark eyes.

"I said _go_!" Bellatrix barked and Hermione's eyes opened. Bellatrix's grip on her head tightened now that she got angry. Pain rushed through Hermione's veins and it was strangely and sickly intoxicating. She watched how Narcissa's gaze dropped to the wand aimed at her heart. She was panting slightly. Bellatrix's voice was loud and harsh. "LEAVE!"

Narcissa reluctantly backed up to the door, her eyes never leaving Hermione. When she closed the bedroom door behind her, leaving Hermione and Bellatrix alone, Hermione felt herself sink into a pool of mixed emotions. She still sat on her knees and looked up at Bellatrix, who was looking back at her as if she was an interesting art object. She let Hermione's curls run through her fingers but suddenly she snapped forward and grabbed the younger witch under her chin and forced her to rise to her feet. They were face to face now. Hermione could see every eyelash and even the old child hood scar on her cheek that went mostly hidden behind Bellatrix's curls.

"Foolish girl," Bellatrix hissed, her breath hot against Hermione's skin. "Why did you come here for?"

Hermione didn't know what to answer and remained silent. Bellatrix's fingers were rough and harsh and she could feel the bruising of her skin where the dark witch was holding her. She swallowed and hazel eyes met charcoal black. Eventually she managed to breath out some words and they left her lips in a whisper. "I needed to see you."

Bellatrix chuckled to herself and her iron grip on Hermione's chin and jaw loosened. Instead her fingers began to trace the shape of Hermione's lips and slowly she pushed her backwards until Hermione found herself pressed up against the wall. Bellatrix stood in front of her, her fingers still running across Hermione's fingers. Her other hand unexpectedly grasped hold of Hermione's wrist and for a moment Hermione believed the female Death Eater was going to break it. But there was no pain. Bellatrix merely touched her.

"See me?" Bellatrix hissed through her teeth. "And what possibly made you think I wanted to see you again?"

"This," Hermione answered softly, showing Bellatrix the bruised wrist. The fracture had been healed but the bruising was still there. Bellatrix's eyes widened and her lips curled up into a twisted smile. "You said the Dark Lord wanted Harry and I was to give him to you. Why does he need Harry? Why now? They are equals now."

"The world was not created for two survivors, my pet," Bellatrix answered and Hermione frowned. Bellatrix moved closer, pressing her own body against Hermione's and placed her lips against the brunette's ear. "Neither can live whilst the other survives, remember? It is a fact of life. For one to live, the other must die. Potter only lived because the Dark Lord fell. Now that the Dark Lord is back, there will be another battle. The Prophecy is endless."

Hermione was about to say something when rough lips crashed down upon her own and a powerful tongue found its way into her mouth. Bellatrix's kiss was ferocious and poisoning and Hermione felt her knees weaken. Unexpectedly strong arms closed around her waist, pulling her deeper into the kiss and stopping her from falling. Hermione's hands snaked around Bellatrix's neck and let black curls run through her fingers for the very first time. Bellatrix tasted of a strange, erotic mixture of rain and spices. Hermione eagerly allowed the older woman to explore her and met Bellatrix's tongue with her own. It wasn't until the dark haired witch sank her teeth into Hermione's bottom lip and the brunette yelped that they broke apart, panting.

"Get me the boy," Bellatrix whispered and her fingers slipped away from Hermione's wrist. The loss of the touch left the younger brunette feeling desperate. She opened her mouth to speak but before she could say anything, the sound of breaking glass echoed through the Manor. There was a loud bang followed by a sharp and high pitched scream. A loud voice rose from downstairs, shouting something Hermione didn't understand. It was followed by more glass breaking and chairs being thrown over and spells crashing into the walls. Hurried footsteps approached the bedroom and the door swung open, revealing Narcissa. There was a bloodied cut across her cheek and she stared at Hermione and Bellatrix. Within a second it was clear to her what had happened between them. She took a deep breath.

"The Order is here."


	10. A Step Towards Death

**Chapter 10**

_How did we lose this great right_  
_Everything burns in our past_  
_The balance we broke_  
_Left us running through smoke__  
~Dar Williams - Blue Light Of The Flame_

They had only a few seconds to respond. Bellatrix drew her wand and ran after her sister out of the bedroom. Hermione could hear their footsteps as they made their way downstairs. She took a few seconds to get her breath and drew her own wand. She raced out of Narcissa's bedroom and made her way down the marble staircase, dodging a stray spell as it shot right past her head. Malfoy Manor was in a state of chaos. As she came down the steps she saw Harry fighting Lucius Malfoy in the entrance hall. Both were hurt and bleeding. More voices came from the dining room and the drawing room. The sound of breaking glass and items being blown apart as the spells crashed into them filled the house. There was dust and smoke everywhere, lit up by the bright flashes of light shooting from a variety of wands.

"HERMIONE!" Ron cried when she made it down. He came running out of the kitchen, chased by a deranged looking male Death Eater. His nose had swollen up to the size of a small melon and blood was gushing down from his face. He seemed wand less and Hermione spun around like a warrior in a battlefield and shot a well-aimed curse at the Death Eater, causing him to tumble to the ground. He vanished in a cloud of dust.

"How did you know I was here?" Hermione asked when she reached Ron and grabbed his arm. Together they ducked behind a large statue, which was promptly shattered by a curse from Lucius that missed Harry. Ron was panting and he was covered in dust. His blue eyes found Hermione.

"Andromeda told us you'd be here. What the hell were you thinking?"

"What the hell was I thinking? What the hell were you thinking coming in here, fighting?" Hermione snapped back. She flicked her wand and only just managed Lucius, who had attempted to hex Harry after he had been struck by a piece of stray concrete that had flown off the statue. "I told Andromeda I was going to see Narcissa. I wanted to talk to her about joining the Order. She is one of the very little chances we have left because trust me when I say that things are not looking pretty!"

"There's the understatement of the year!" Ron shouted over the sound of battle.

Hermione didn't say anything else in return. From the corner of her eye she saw Narcissa and Bellatrix moving backwards out of the drawing room, into the entrance hall. Bellatrix was almost dancing from one foot onto the other as she fired jinx after jinx to her opponent, whom Hermione could not quite see. Narcissa was less brutal but as Hermione watched she realised that her magical talents and skills were not that different from her sisters.

"Accio wand!" Hermione summoned and from out of nowhere Ron's wand appeared, whizzed through the air and landed neatly in the palm of her outstretched hand. Ron took it and sent her a thankful smile. She ignored him, focusing instead on the two sisters fighting not far from her. She would give everything to be at their side, to know they would both be safe. Her hazel eyes snapped back at Ron and her brain was working overtime.

"Is the whole Order here?" Hermione asked, in attempt to grasp hold of the situation. In her head she was back at Hogwarts and she watched in horror how her friends fell and died at her feet. They were all back at that night, that horrible night that had changed history. Around them the walls of Malfoy Manor, once considered a fortress, crumbled under the impact of the spells. She could feel the cold wind on her skin. The wooden doors had been blown of their hinges and rain was violently battering all those present in the entrance hall. Harry and Lucius, sworn enemies, were still fighting. Both were drenched.

"Dad, Kingsley, McGonagall, George, Draco, Bill, Fleur, Harry, Andromeda and me," Ron answered and Hermione realised that the number of Order members was a lot smaller than the numbers of Death Eaters she expected were at the Manor tonight. "Mum stayed at home to look after Ginny though I am sure she would have liked to have another go at Lestrange!"

"Listen to me," Hermione said sharply, ignoring the cold feeling that spread through her veins and into her heart now that Ron mentioned his mother killing Bellatrix Lestrange. Ron had leapt back to his feet, casting a Stunning Spell at Lucius Malfoy and running towards Harry. Hermione too jumped to her feet and Ron looked over his shoulder. She raised her voice. "Get everyone out of here. You're outnumbered. We need to get out!"

There was a rumbling sound and Hermione's eyes snapped up. The ceiling of the entrance hall gave way under the heavy rain combined with unforgiving magic and with a deafening sound it collapsed. Large pieced of stone, glass and dirt landed onto all of those present. Somewhere in the cloud of dust Hermione could hear Bellatrix shriek. She could make out a shadow as it ran past her, seeking shelter. In a flash she saw a strand of blonde hair and Hermione reached out, grasping hold of Narcissa's hand and pulled her down to the floor beside her. They were each other's shield, with their arms wrapped around each other, as the roof collapsed. Narcissa's hands protected Hermione's head whilst Hermione forced the other witch's head down into her chest.

Seconds later the dust began to clear and a haunting silence had fallen over the Manor. Hermione scrambled to her feet, holding on to Narcissa. Her eyes desperately searched whatever was left of this part of the house and found Harry and Ron leaning against the opposite wall, coughing and covered in blood. She found Lucius trapped under a pile of rubble, unconscious and with blood trickling from his nose. His wand lay a few inches away, just out of reach. People emerged from other sides of the house and Hermione quickly realised they were all Order members.

Kingsley was flanked by Arthur Weasley and Minerva McGonagall. The three of them looked strangely undamaged, apart from the amount of dust that covered their robes and Minerva's broken glasses. From the top of the stairs Andromeda appeared. She was limping, parts of her robes were burnt and there were blisters across her face. She had fled up the stairs when part of the ceiling collapsed and as far as Hermione could see she was alone. Bill, Fleur and George appeared from the dining room and Draco appeared in what had once been the front door, drenched but clutching three separate wands other than his own. For just a few moments it was as if the world stood still.

"Where's Bella?" Narcissa whispered, her eyes desperately searching the rubble around them. "She was just..."

Her voice was cut off by a green flash of light that seemed to come out of nowhere and made everybody leap aside. It missed and found its way into the furthest wall, creating a large hole. When Hermione turned around she found Bellatrix standing behind her, maybe another foot or two, looking bewildered. Dust stuck to her raven curls and there was a bloody cut across her cheek, her dress was torn and she looked strangely alive. Anger flickered in her eyes and she brandished her wand. Almost immediately more spells were cast and to her horror Hermione realised that from out of nowhere the Death Eaters reappeared. For a few seconds it was too hard to tell who was doing what. Flashes of light in all sorts of colours surrounded them.

The battle erupted again and Hermione found herself casting curses and spells at shadows and figures without knowing who they were. Somewhere in front of her someone stumbled and crashed to the floor. A desperate cry, a woman's voice that sounded an awful lot like Fleur, died out and Hermione turned around but other than seeing Kingsley battle someone half way up the stairs she didn't see Fleur. She ducked and missed a stray spell from Andromeda's wand. Their eyes briefly met and a look was all Hermione needed to understand. Beside her, Narcissa had barely moved. She didn't even appear to be fighting and Hermione protected her with a Shield Charm when a blue jet shot her way.

"Back to the Burrow!" she heard Arthur Weasley shout from the shadows and his call was followed by a few pops. The sounds of spells slowly died down.

"HERMIONE!" Ron roared when he realised Hermione had not yet moved. He turned around, leaving Harry by the door and ran across the length of whatever was left of the entrance hall and grasped Hermione's arm. Instinctively she fought him off and even smacked her wand down on his own. Ron's fingers slipped away from her and he stared at her as she sent a Shield Charm over his shoulder, preventing a Killing Curse from finishing him off. She stood partially in front of Narcissa, like a shield, but her eyes were fixed on Bellatrix. They stared at each other as around them more and more people Dissaparated.

"COME ON, RON!" Harry shouted. He had knocked out the man responsible for all of this, Walden MacNair, followed by Rabastan Lestrange.

"Not without Hermione!" Ron shouted back and glanced at Hermione, reaching out his hand. His fingers closed around her wrist once more and she finally tore her eyes away from Bellatrix. But they did not fill with relief, like Ron had expected. Instead he was faced with blazing eyes, filled with anger. "For Merlin's sake, Hermione! COME ON!"

Hermione recognised the familiar jerking motion near her navel and just had enough time to turn slightly and grab hold of Narcissa's arm. The older witch did not have another second to break free. Hermione met the Narcissa's eyes just as she turned on the spot and grasped a tighter hold of her. Around her the world changed into a rapid blur and she could hear angry voices. The wind and the rain were cold in her face and she lost her balance when she reappeared, collapsing into the mud as they reached the Burrow.

Ron jumped up immediately and aimed his wand at a bewildered and puzzled looking Narcissa Malfoy, who lay beside Hermione in the mud, still holding her hand. "Get away from her!" he growled and Narcissa turned to look at him.

"I suggest you lower that wand, Mr Weasley, unless you want it to become acquainted with far less pleasant parts of your body," she sneered but Ron did not do what she asked. Even now that she lay in the mud, in shock, Narcissa still held a lot of grace and her haughty attitude had not disappeared. Instead of doing what Narcissa said, Ron took a step in her direction and looked at Hermione, who finally found the strength and energy to sit up. She was panting and felt strangely sick. Feeling Narcissa's hand on her own was encouraging.

"Drop it, Ron," she breathed and slowly sat up. She had landed on her chest and the pain in her ribs was awful. She made a mental note to ask Mrs Weasley to check them once they were inside. Rain was still falling and her hair stuck to her face. Added with the mud she felt terrible.

"What did you bring her back here for?" Ron demanded, his face was now as red as hair and for a moment Hermione wondered why she had once even considered him to be attractive at all. "Remember the Fidelius Charm? She can now go back to all her little Death Eater friends exactly where we are! My guess is they will be here by morning. She and that stupid sister of hers!"

"Hold your tongue, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione staggered to her feet, ignoring the sharp pain in her ribs. "I suggest you do not talk about things you know nothing about. So unless you really want to keep making an arse of yourself, and I won't really mind if you do, I suggest you get Kingsley and Minerva. There are things we need to talk about."

Ron shot her a look that made it very clear he did not trust Narcissa being here but he walked towards the house nevertheless, leaving Hermione and Narcissa alone. The two witches waited till he was out of hearing range before turning to each other. They were wet, injured and covered in mud. Hermione panted as the pain in her chest became more intense and she rubbed her ribs.

"Why did you bring me here, Hermione?" Narcissa whispered, looking at Hermione's pained expression. She reached out to support the young brunette and Hermione thankfully slipped her arm around Narcissa's neck for support, taking some of the weight of her body. Narcissa's arm snaked around Hermione's lower back and hoisted her up. Together they began walking towards the Burrow with slow, careful steps. "I have nothing to offer to the Order."

"You have nothing to offer to the Death Eaters either," Hermione answered quickly and Narcissa's eyebrows shot up. They held still for a moment and looked at each other. Hermione sounded serious. "Apart from your life, that is."

"Bellatrix..." Narcissa began but Hermione shook her head.

"What you saw tonight you must forget, Narcissa," she said sharply and took another few steps. The pain was excruciating and se briefly wondered if she had broken her ribs. Carefully she let her fingers slip under her robes and clothing and felt the bone standing up against her skin. The area was swollen and she could clearly feel the fracture. The pain erased some of the numbness she had been feeling up till this very night. She bit down on her tongue and took in a sharp breath. "You must forget it but more than that, you cannot speak of it to anyone inside."

They looked up when the Burrow's front door opened and several people came running from inside the house. Hermione recognised Molly Weasley, followed by Minerva McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt. When they reached Hermione and Narcissa the three people held still and for a moment the group shared a silent understanding. Narcissa looked at Kingsley whilst Minerva quickly helped Narcissa carry the injured Hermione inside, followed by worried Molly Weasley who was uttering all sorts of things under her breath.

When they stepped into the kitchen, Minerva let go of Hermione but Narcissa's arm was still wrapped securely around her waist, helping her to walk. Molly Weasley quickly ushered them into the living room and there Narcissa helped Hermione sit down on the sofa. The brunette groaned in pain as she sank down in the comforting cushions and did what she was told when Molly said she had to lay down on her back.

"What happened?" Ron appeared in the living room door and watched with a worried expression as his mother carefully lifted up Hermione's robes, followed by her shirt. The dark blue, nearly black bruising had spread across most of Hermione's abdomen and chest. She flinched when Molly touched the broken bone almost piercing through her skin and tears sprung in her eyes.

"Does he have to be here?" she whispered when she realised Ron was still watching and Molly was pulling up her shirt so high it only just covered her breasts.

"You heard her," Narcissa said sharply and reluctantly Ron turned around and closed the door behind him. Hermione turned to look at Narcissa.

"I'm sorry."

"There is time to talk later," Narcissa said and shared a look with Molly Weasley. "Right now it is important that we get you healed properly." Drawing her wand from her pocket Narcissa knelt down beside the Weasley matriarch. "Anything I can do to help?"

~()~

There was barely enough room for everybody to find a place to sit. With Draco and Narcissa now being present it was rapidly becoming more cramped in the dining area. Molly had summoned the comfortable arm chair from the living room for Hermione to sit in. The brunette looked pale, with dark rings around her eyes. The broken ribs had been healed but the pain was still very much there, as was the severe bruising. She was surrounded by cushions and every so often a worried set of eyes would find hers and someone would send her an encouraging smile.

Kingsley looked around the table. "Tonight was a clear example that the Death Eaters have gained far larger numbers than we imagined. It seems that whatever evil Lord Voldemort has unleashed, he has done so with the same number as he did before. It was wrong to assume evil is dead."

"What are his plans?" Harry asked, fixing his green eyes on Narcissa. She was sat beside her son tough they had barely spoken to each other since she arrived. It now had become clear to others how strained their relationship really was. Even now that they sat at the same table, at the same side, they were still miles apart. Draco stared at the table surface. Narcissa however sat up straight, her hands neatly folded.

"The Dark Lord wishes to kill you," Narcissa said clearly. There wasn't a hint of hesitation in her voice. The message was clear and yet it did not fill many with fear.

"Why Harry? Why now?" Minerva asked. Her emerald eyes fixed on Hermione, who sat slumped in her chair and was unusually quiet. Andromeda sat next her, leaning towards her like a natural protector. She had spoken to Narcissa for the first time in nearly thirty years. But it would take a lot more than a night spent together at the Order for them to find common ground, solace and peace. Minerva doubted the two sisters would ever be able to reconcile. Too much time had passed. Sometimes it just was too late.

"The Prophecy is endless," Narcissa said and Hermione sat up, realising she had heard those words already that day. "Neither can live whilst the other survives. It did not end the day the Dark Lord fell. It lives on, till this very day. It is physically impossible for both to be alive. For one to truly live, the other must be gone."

"So he just came back because he thinks it's his turn now to have a life?" Harry said with disbelief in is voice. It almost seemed too simple, too easy. "There has got to be more to it than that." He glanced at Ginny, who was caressing her stomach. "The Prophecy was destroyed. There are no more rules. We are as equal and as immortal as each other."

"His soul is different now. It is claimed that the souls that rise from the underworld are not identical to the one that went down in the first place," Narcissa continued and Hermione watched her in curiosity. It was interesting to hear her speak, to clarify what she knew. "Harry is a symbol of hope. He is The Boy Who Lived. Twice. Destroying Harry destroys a symbol of hope. Without Harry many will feel powerless."

Ron snorted. "We would still keep on fighting even if Harry were dead." He glanced at his friend. "No offense, mate."

"You would," Narcissa said slowly and looked at Ron. It was quite clear he did not approve of having her here. He had not spoken to her since he had been sent from the living room. "But many others will see their world fall apart when the Boy who defeated the Dark Lord twice is killed. They will see no way out and surrender. A simple piece of psychology and the Dark Lord is banking on it."

Hermione watched the faces around the table. She had seen the way Narcissa looked at her and she knew the older witch knew that in her mind she was somewhere else. She could still taste the poison on her lips; feel the fingers on her flesh. Whenever she closed her eyes she saw Bellatrix. She could barely look at Andromeda as the resemblance was too painful. All she wanted was to go home, to her own house, and crawl into bed and sleep for all eternity. Her pained expressions did not remain unnoticed because after another fifteen minutes Molly Weasley stood up.

"Okay, that's it. There is nothing more we can do tonight. We could all use the sleep," Molly said and looked around the table. "Kingsley, where will Narcissa be staying?"

"Don't worry about me," Narcissa said slowly and looked around the table. Her dark eyes fixed on Hermione, who seemed half asleep and uncomfortable. All she wanted was to see the brunette lie down and have some sleep. "I do not want to impose on anyone."

"My family home is available. Everybody else has been moved to a safe house," Kingsley said firmly and Narcissa sensed there was no point in arguing any different. "I will give you the address and you can Apparate as you please." His dark eyes found Hermione. "Andromeda, can you see to it Hermione makes it home safely?"

Those last words seemed to have a cue. Harry and Ginny stood up and used to the Floo Network to travel home, followed by George, Bill and Fleur. Minerva Dissaparated back to Hogwarts after kissing Hermione on her head and Draco returned to the room he was renting above the Leaky Cauldron in London. Narcissa watched Andromeda talk to Molly Weasley before approaching Hermione.

"Remember what I said, Hermione," she said and the brunette looked up at her with tired, bloodshot eyes. "She is poison and will not spare you."

"Forget what you saw," Hermione said softly and swallowed when Andromeda approached. Seeing her reminded her of Bellatrix and she found herself longing back to the moment of fierce battle. At least they were together, surrounded by destruction; A beautiful disaster. "Forget about it, Narcissa. It would be the best for all of us."

Narcissa's eyes pierced into Hermione's. "I know."

Hermione stood up and shook her head. She put her cloak back on and shot Narcissa one last look before walking up to Andromeda. "You know _nothing_."

~()~

The dust had been cleared and the ceiling had been restored. Strong magic held the fortress in place and in the dim candle light of the library, Bellatrix paced around the room. Lucius sat in one of the luxurious leather arm chairs, an old book resting in his lap. A half empty glass of brandy stood on the table beside him and he attempted to read but was distracted by the raven haired witch pacing around the room, fidgeting with her fingers and muttering under her breath.

"Your wife abandoned you," Bellatrix said and tuned around. Dark eyes pierced into Lucius' emotionless grey and he put down the book. Slowly he stood up but he knew better than to approach Bellatrix when she was angry. In the weak candle light he could see the bruises on her face. The Dark Lord's punishment over what had happened tonight had been unforgiving but, unlike Bellatrix, Lucius had healed his injuries. Bellatrix had chosen to endure her pain.

"Your sister betrayed you," he said with a drawling voice and saw how Bellatrix's eyes darkened. "Narcissa is a fool!"

"Only because she married you!" Bellatrix bit back and began pacing around the room again. Her body hurt from the torment she endured. Underneath her dress deep, bloody gashes desecrated the pale flesh of her back, bruises covered her arms and legs and the side of her face. She treasured them in a way that was beyond the understanding of Lucius. Every step was painful. The pain was a reminder; it was what kept her focused.

"She left with a mudblood, Bellatrix. She is probably sitting with the Order right now, sharing with them your darkest secrets," Lucius said and glanced out of the window. It was no longer raining. The darkness of the night felt safe for him, as a Death Eater. He thought of his son, sharing that same table with his mother. "Pure blood tainted by traitors."

Bellatrix's dark eyes narrowed. "No!"

She wasn't going to let anyone get in her way, even if it meant she had to destroy them all.


	11. Shard Of Winter

**A/N: **Nearly 100 reviews (come on, let's get triple digits.) You guys have no idea how grateful I am for all your lovely, beautiful and wonderful comments. I would almost become arrogant because of all the messages that say how you guys love what I have done to this pairing, how its developed since my earliest Bellatrix/Hermione story and how some of you say nobody does it like me. I am honoured and flattered to receive such wonderful messages and you lot must know how grateful I am for an audience like you. I am away for the weekend and hope to write some more while I am away. Thank you, my friends, for standing with me. It means the world. ~Cissy

* * *

**Chapter 11**

_So how come when I reach out my finger _  
_it feels like more than distance between us__  
~Rihanna - California King Bed_

Her apartment felt lonely. Walking through the front door after Andromeda had seen to it she got home safe felt like closing the door on the world. Between the walls of her home it was as if nothing had happened. The book she had been reading days earlier still lay on the sofa, the dirty laundry still sat in the basket by the washing machine and the envelopes in the mailbox told her that the mail delivery system had not been disturbed. Instead of turning on the lights Hermione used her wand to light all the candles across the house, followed by a protective enchantment that would prevent them from burning down and setting her house on fire.

That had been three days ago and she had not left her house since. She walked around in a pair of jogging bottoms and a tank top, struggling to make her way around the apartment because of the pain. The bruises had turned a horrible shade of purple and yellow and whenever she took a shower she found herself caressing the injuries. The pain was constant and she found it a strange comfort. She barely slept, spending most of the night awake, staring into the darkness. Every night she saw Bellatrix's face, it flooded back into her mind whenever she closed her eyes. Through the pain she still found the need, the desperation, to feel what she had felt before. Beads of sweat still glistened on her forehead, her upper lip and the valley between her breasts. Her fingers were slick with her juices and her back arched as the name desperately slipped from her lips.

On the morning of day four an owl arrived. It was a beautiful tawny bird with yellow eyes. Hermione recognised it as belonging to Harry and took the letter strapped to its paw but did not bother reading it. It was the third owl in the past two day. Instead of reading the letter she gave the bird some water and watched it fly off until all she could see was a tiny black dot on the horizon. The unread parchment lay abandoned on the table, together with the other two she had not bothered opening. The handwriting on the first one was unfair. The second one belonged to Ron and now Harry. Hermione sighed as she sat down on the sofa and flinched in pain.

She looked up when there was a knock on the front door and glanced at the clock. 9.25 am. She sighed and carefully stood up and walked into the hall to the door. She peered through the peep hole and she sighed in frustration before opening the door. Outside stood Narcissa Malfoy and the older witch's face lit up when she saw Hermione, dressed in grey jogging bottoms and a white tank top. Her thick brown curls fell down her shoulders in a messy pile.

"Oh deep joy," Hermione growled at the sight of the older woman and turned away from the door. She was tempted to slam it in Narcissa's face. "What do you want?"

"To talk," Narcissa said and put her foot in the door before Hermione had a chance to close it. Reluctantly the brunette stepped aside to allow Narcissa in. The older woman filed past her and looked at her as she did. "I hear you have not been replying to your owls. It is considered most rude to leave people waiting for a reply."

"Well if there was a reply worth giving I would have written one," Hermione answered stubbornly and closed the door. She walked back to the living room and Narcissa followed, curiously taking in Hermione's surroundings. Books and magazines littered the table and the floor, the TV was playing on mute and the letters delivered by owl lay untouched on the table. There were some empty tea cups and glasses but Narcissa did not see an empty plate or anything else related to food. A fine-shaped eyebrow shot up.

"When was the last time you ate?" Narcissa inquired and Hermione looked at her.

"What are you, my fairy godmother?" she sneered and Narcissa seemed slightly taken aback by Hermione's sharpness. The brunette was pale, with dark rings around her eyes. Now that Narcissa saw her wearing nothing more than simple bottoms and a top she realised how thin Hermione really was. Hermione noticed Narcissa was looking at her and folded her arms across her chest. "I am not in the mood for company. What can I do for you, Narcissa?"

"People are worried about you," Narcissa said and gestured at the letters on the table. Since the night of the battle at Malfoy Manor, Hermione had been on her mind. She had been worried about her and Narcissa had been unable to erase the images in her head; what she had seen in her bedroom. "Mr Potter and Mr Weasley have written to you and you have not replied."

"Somehow I doubt Ron would have sent you to check on me," Hermione said and walked around the table before sitting down. "You might as well leave. I don't want to talk to you."

"Is this what my sister has done to you?" Narcissa said harshly and Hermione's head whipped up, eyes blazing in anger. "Has she left you feeling miserable because she promised you something? Is this what happens, Hermione? Are you allowing yourself to drown in this poisonous pool? Because that's all Bella is doing to you; she is killing you!"

"You have no idea what it is like," Hermione hissed through clenched teeth and she clenched her fists. Her nails dug into the palms of her hands, drawing blood. Adrenaline rushed through her veins. "You don't know what it feels like to feel something under your skin, another heart that beats almost simultaneous to yours; to have a dream and wake up, not knowing whether it was real. You have no idea what it feels like to feel someone so close to you, inside of you."

"Hermione..."

"Don't," Hermione whispered and shook her head. "Because I know what you're going to say and I don't want to hear it!"

"Bellatrix is a monster, Hermione!"

"Most of us would say you are too!"

There was a silence and Narcissa just stared at the broken looking brunette on the sofa. Behind Hermione's eyes she recognised the anger, the lust, the sadness and the frustration. She raised her hands in helplessness and began pacing around the room. Hermione watched her, struck by how Narcissa's stride was identical to Bellatrix's. As she looked at the dark robes falling around the older woman's body, ignoring the blonde hair with black streaks, it was as if she watched Bellatrix. Instantly her heart roared in her chest.

"My sister wants Potter," Narcissa said and glanced at Hermione. "Are you really going to sell him out?"

"Even if I was, nobody would believe you if you told them," Hermione snapped and stood up, She walked up to Narcissa and cocked her head. "Because, like it or not, nobody trusts you. They never have and they never will. To them you will always be a traitor, the one who took the easy way out and no matter what you do, that image will never change. Not to anyone!"

Narcissa was lost for words and stared at Hermione in a mixture of shock and amusement. Hermione's anger was something she had not expected but it changed the way she thought about the situation.

"If it will never change then why did you bring me with you?"

Hermione's mouth became dry and she was lost for an answer. She shook her head and looked at Narcissa. She didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. All she wanted was Narcissa to leave. She had hoped, every day, that Bellatrix would come once darkness fell. Several nights had passed but nobody had emerged from the shadows. Hermione had spent too much time staring out of the window only to find the darkness staring back at her. She sighed.

"I'm sorry but I meant it when I said I am not in the mood for company" she said, averting her gaze and shook her head. "Maybe it is better if you..." She paused and narrowed her eyes. Something suddenly fell into place. "Hang on, how exactly did you leave Kingsley's place if you're supposed to be watched by an Auror at all times?"

Narcissa shrugged, a teasing smile lingered on her lips. "Spend many years being married to a Death Eater and you pick up some tricks of the trait, I 'm afraid."

"I suppose," Hermione said absentmindedly and looked up to meet the older woman's eyes. "Listen, Narcissa, I really do want to be alone. I am tired and I need to take some more painkillers. Apparently bruised ribs take longer to heal than broken ones and I have come to the stage where I wish I had broken every single one of them. I am sorry I couldn't be of more help and I appreciate your concern but I am really quite all right."

"The only reason I haven't spoken to anyone is that I know nobody will believe me if I do, Hermione."

Hermione smirked. She could picture Ron's face if Narcissa told him she had seen her with Bellatrix. Ron had her on such a pedestal; he had no idea how she had fallen since. "Perhaps it's better that way." She went ahead in walking Narcissa to the front door and when she opened it to reveal the corridor outside she took a deep breath. "I will see you at the Burrow for the next meeting. Feel free to tell the others I am fine."

Narcissa turned to look at Hermione before stepping outside. There was a severity to her voice Hermione had not heard before. It only angered her more. "Just know that I will be watching."

Hermione slowly closed the front door and rested her forehead against the wood. "I know."

Her heart hammered in her chest and inside it felt as if she was being torn apart. Narcissa had admitted she knew about her and Bellatrix, whatever there was to know. Tears burnt behind her eyes but she knew better than to cry. Even now that she was alone tears were a sign of weakness. As she straightened her back her ribs protested in pain and slowly she made her way back to the living room. She picked up the three letters she had received, put them together in a bowl and aimed her wand.

"Incendio."

She watched the paper go up in flames.

~()~

It was late that same night when there was another knock on her door. Hermione had already gone to bed but the knocking continued, becoming louder with every passing second. She slipped out of bed and made her way through the darkness to the front door. When she opened it she found Andromeda standing outside, dressed in a black travelling cloak. The dark haired witch stepped inside without an invitation and looked at Hermione, who stared at her in surprise and shock.

"Can't you sleep or something?" she asked and Andromeda's eyes pierced into Hermione's.

"You need to come with me," Andromeda urged and observed Hermione from head to toe. Dressed in shorts and a simple t-shirt Hermione looked so much younger. The brunette's eyebrows shot up and Andromeda sighed at Hermione's reluctance. "Hermione, something's happened and it really is important that you come with me."

"What happened?" Hermione asked and her eyes suddenly widened.

"Get dressed," Andromeda said softly and briefly put a hand on Hermione's arm. The young brunette went into the bedroom, grabbed a dirty pair of jeans that lay on the floor and slipped them on before grabbing the nearest shirt she could find. She found a pair of socks and grabbed her boots. She was still putting them on by the time she walked back into the hall only to find Andromeda had wandered off into the living room.

When Hermione walked into the room she found Andromeda looking at the some of the pictures on the shelf and the older witch turned around. Hermione was sure she could see sadness in her eyes but she didn't ask. Andromeda merely smiled weakly and took Hermione's hand, leading her to the front door. Hermione double checked to see whether she had her wand and then stepped out into the night. The wind was bitter cold but at least it was not raining. It was misty and thick grey clouds obscured the moon.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked when she realised Andromeda did not show any inclination to Dissaparate straight away. They walked side by side along the road, past parked cars. Andromeda seemed strangely familiar with their location and easily found her way through the streets of London. Every so often the odd window was still illuminated but most houses were dark. It was nearly midnight and most of the hardworking yobs in this neighbourhood had to get up early the next morning.

Hermione looked over her shoulder. The strange feeling that someone was following her crept up on her the longer they walked and she hesitated for just a moment too long. Andromeda held still and she too looked over her shoulder before taking Hermione's arm and walking on. Hermione followed but every so often she looked back and just before Andromeda held still, ready to Dissaparate, she saw a shadow move between two cars. A smile lingered on her lips as the jerky motion of Apparition washed over her. Just before London disappeared into a blur, she saw a flash of black hair.

~()~

Hermione had expected to see the Burrow when she opened her eyes but to her surprise she and Andromeda were standing outside Harry and Ginny's country home. A sense of horror washed over her as the older witch pushed her towards the front door and Hermione reluctantly walked. With every step the anxiety grew. She half and half expected someone to meet her at the door to tell her her friends were dead. But when she reached the front door there was nobody there to greet her. Andromeda just quietly guided her inside and judging by the familiarity with which she made her way to the kitchen, she knew her way around. Walking into the kitchen left Hermione stunned.

Harry and Ron were seated at the table and Ginny was busy making tea. When Hermione walked in their heads whipped up and it was only then that Hermione realised there was a fourth person sitting at the table. A young man who looked very little like the description Harry had given her back in the day. The visitor had dark hair, around the same length as Harry and had a stocky build. He looked nothing like the boy Harry had once described as looking like a beached killer whale who had managed to grow bigger around his waist than he was tall. In fact, Dudley Dursley looked very little like that particular boy.

"Dudley, this is Hermione. She's the girl I told you about," Harry said, making the introductions. Dudley stood up and shook Hermione's hand. If he was wary about being surrounded by two wizards and three witches he wasn't showing it.

"Nice to meet you, Dudley," Hermione smiled politely and looked over her shoulder at Andromeda. Was this really the reason she had been dragged out of bed? To meet Harry's cousin she had heard so many terrible things about but who suddenly sat at Harry' kitchen table as if it happened every week? Surely this could have waited till the morning?

"Now tell Hermione what you told me and Ron," Harry said slowly and Hermione's head whipped back in Dudley's direction. It was only now that she noticed his hands were shaking and there were dark rings around his eyes, much like her own. She slipped into one of the empty chairs and watched as Andromeda did the same. Ginny put the mugs on the table the Muggle way, perhaps not to scare Dudley, and sat down next to Harry. She sighed as she caressed her baby bump.

"I went round to Mum and Dad's house," Dudley began and eagerly picked up the steaming mug of tea, bringing it to his lips before putting it back down without drinking anything. "They were supposed to look after Caitlin and Noah for the weekend but when I got there, nobody answered the door. I used the key but the door wasn't even locked. When I went inside the place had been trashed and they were missing."

Hermione felt her heart sink in her chest and glanced at Harry. Judging from the glint in his green eyes she suspected he too knew exactly what this meant. Harry had not forgiven the Dursley's for the way they had treated him as he was growing up but as he had gotten older he had learnt to understand that, his aunt found it hard to look at him and love him because he reminded her of her sister so much. She had resented Lily for dying and that resentment had passed on to Harry. The perfect picture that she had once held of life had shattered the day she discovered Lily was a witch, laced with the jealousy of not receiving this gift herself.

"And I found this," Dudley said and pointed at something that lay on the table.

Hermione's breath chocked in the back of her throat and she very nearly knocked over her cup of tea. The small knife on the table was almost identical to the one that had cut through her skin, leaving the silver scars on her flesh. A cold chill crept up her spine. She glanced at Andromeda and the older witch slowly nodded. The knife was a message; a very particular message.

"Death Eaters," Hermione breathed.

Harry's eyes met hers. "Voldemort."

"I thought he was dead?" Dudley asked in confusion

"You and me both, mate," Ron answered and his blue eyes fixed on Hermione. "Unfortunately there has been some idiot who felt the need to bring him back from the dead."

Dudley's eyes widened in disbelief and he shot Harry a puzzled look. "You can actually do that? Bring people back from the dead, I mean?" He paused and his eye fell on Hermione's wand sticking out of the back pocket of her jeans. There was a glint of hope in his eye and Hermione realised that Dudley feared his parents had been murdered. "You know, with your..."

"Wand?" Harry finished his sentence and Dudley nodded. "Well, no. Relatively speaking no one can bring back the dead but there are always legends that say one can. And there was this Greek myth about a Ruby Hyacinth that holds the power to open a portal to the underworld and claim back the souls of the dead. Someone figured it out and did it."

"Why would Voldemort take your aunt and uncle?" Hermione asked, suddenly becoming aware of the strange family reunion that was taking place here. "Correct me if I am wrong but you never had the best relationship. Voldemort knows this too."

"They are the only blood relatives I have left," Harry sighed and Hermione experienced a brief flashback to the moment Harry had once said Sirius was the only family he had left. It had not ended well. "He is counting on the fact that that knowledge will draw me out and find them." He paused and glanced at Ginny. It was clear they had talked about this before Hermione arrived and she wondered exactly how much she had missed. "And I will."

"Harry," Andromeda began but Harry shook his head.

"You know what it's like to feel as if you're the only one left," Harry said and Andromeda slowly nodded. "Did you not welcome your sister back when she appeared the other night?" Andromeda smiled, realising the wise words Harry spoke. Forgiveness lay inside all of them. "Besides, what sort of a father would I be to my own child if I don't go and find the only family I've got left?"

"Always the hero," Ron said and Harry pulled a face. Ron's eyes then found Hermione's. "Hey, did you get my owl?"

"Yeah, sorry. I didn't really feel like replying. I spent most of my time in bed," Hermione lied without making eye contact. She could sense Ron's frustration but this was nor the place nor the time to have an argument. She wondered what he was thinking, having already accused her of being too preoccupied with Bellatrix.

"Maybe we can..." Ron began but Hermione's eyes snapped up and shook her head.

"No," she said sharply, cutting of his sentence. Ron's cheeks reddened and it was his turn to look away. Hermione could hear Ginny snort and she wondered if the redhead still expected her to end up with her brother. A teasing smile broke through on her face and she leant across the table. "Actually, Ron, I am seeing someone."

Beside her Andromeda's head snapped up and dark eyes narrowed as she curiously searched Hermione's face. The brunette shot her a look. The blush on Ron's cheeks only spread further the longer Hermione looked at him and she could see the disappointment in his eyes. He swallowed and managed a meek "Who is it?" before taking a large gulp from his tea.

"Doesn't matter," Hermione answered with a smirk. "You don't like them anyway." She glanced back at Harry. "How do you want to go and rescue your aunt and uncle? Does the Order know?"

"I spoke to Kingsley just before you arrived," Harry answered slowly. "He is informing the Order in the morning. We will have to find out where they are being kept and somehow I don't think it is going to be Malfoy Manor, since that was half destroyed when we attacked the last time. But they must have another hide out and I bet that's where they keep them."

Hermione looked at the knife. "Is this a message?"

Harry's green eyes darkened. "Or a threat."

Andromeda sat up and looked around the table. "A threat for what?"

Hermione swallowed, staring at the knife. She knew what blades like that felt like. "That they're coming for us."


	12. King For A Day

**Chapter 12**

It was almost dawn by the time Hermione returned to her own apartment. In the distance the sun was climbing up from behind the horizon. The mist that shrouded the world created strange, mystical shades and as she walked across the grass field down the road she could see the dew glisten on whatever was left of the flowers. Something as delicate and beautiful barely survived in the world as they knew it now. With every passing day it was as if there was less time, less space, for things to live. Soon all would die.

Upon reaching her apartment Hermione found herself looking around for the familiar midnight black air. She had seen her, in just a flash, before she left. But she was gone now, or so it seemed. Realising that she was truly alone, Hermione turned the key and stepped inside. Even though she had spent her whole night awake, talking to Harry, Ginny and Dudley, she did not feel tired. Closing the front door behind her she found herself greeted by silence. It was only then that her nose picked up a distinct smell, one that she instantly recognised. Her heart leapt up in her chest and slowly she made her way through the dark hall towards the living room. She did not get far as the bedroom door opened and she spun around.

There, in the open door of her bedroom, stood Bellatrix. The raven haired Death Eater leant casually against the doorframe, her slender fingers sensually caressing the wood. Her eyes were black and as inscrutable as ink drops. In the weak morning sunlight falling through the open curtains behind her she looked strangely angelic and Hermione felt her breath die in the back of her throat.

"H-how did you get in here?" Hermione murmured as Bellatrix strode through the hall towards her. Her feet seemed to barely touch the floor. She stood frozen, mesmerized, as she watched the older woman approach. Bellatrix held still a mere few inches away from her, her dark eyes flickering with lust.

"Through the front door," Bellatrix smirked, seeing the red colour spread across Hermione's cheeks. "You really need to do something about those horrible Muggle locks you put on your doors, Hermione. You never know who might find their way in."

At this moment in time Hermione did not even care how Bellatrix had found her way in. Her heart pounded against her ribcage and her hands felt clam. "What do you want?"

"Now, there is no need to be so rude, is there?" Bellatrix said softly and trailed her index finger down Hermione's cheek until she reached her lips. Her nail scratched teasingly, painfully, across her flesh. She leant in and the tip of her tongue gently slipped out, caressing the corner of Hermione's mouth. It was like being stung by a poisonous needle. "Whatever happened to your manners?"

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Hermione gasped and suppressed the desire to let her fingers through Bellatrix's dark unruly manes. She was so close and yet so far away. She could see her, feel her, taste her and yet she was not hers. Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead as Bellatrix's other hand trailed down and encountered the swell of her breasts through her shirt. Her body's response was immediate and Hermione felt a cold shiver creep down her spine.

"Surely by now you must know why I am here," Bellatrix lisped as her hand slipped down to Hermione's stomach before it sneaked around her waist and pulled her closer. Their bodies pressed together and with gentle force Bellatrix slowly pulled Hermione into the direction of her own bedroom. The curtains magically closed as they entered and the door fell into its lock when they stepped over the threshold. Hermione's eyes fluttered shut when Bellatrix's fingers grasped a tight hold of her hair and a soft moan slipped over her lips. "I have come to collect what is mine."

Hermione forced herself to open the eyes and break the magical spell between them. "Your sister is not here."

"It is not my sister I came to find," Bellatrix answered and unexpectedly attacked the pulsating vein at the side of Hermione's neck. Eager teeth sank down into her flesh and Hermione whimpered both in pleasure and in pain. Her knees went limp and she felt herself collapse into the other woman's arms. Bellatrix's embrace was strong yet strangely comfortable and gentle and she removed her torturing lips. From Hermione's pocket she had taken the knife she had brought home from Harry's and smiled. Its silver blade glistened in the darkness that surrounded them and she smirked. "I see you got my message."

Without using any more words her ruby lips crashed down onto Hermione's, claiming what was hers. The young brunette's body was like wax in her hands and without remorse Bellatrix removed her clothing, exposing the strong abs of her stomach, the proud swells of her breasts and the delicate triangle between her legs. Hermione's skin was so delicate under Bellatrix's exploring fingers, her features fine and soft. Bellatrix's long nail scraped mercilessly across the younger woman's back, drawing blood.

"Bella," Hermione breathed. Her eyes were wide with anticipation. She stood fully naked in front of her. Bellatrix was still fully dressed and seemed mesmerized by the sight of beauty in front of her. Dark eyes swept across Hermione's shape, lingering lustfully on her breasts before darting down to the area near her thighs. Even without touching her Bellatrix could tell Hermione was ready for her; she could see the moisture glisten around her folds.

Unexpectedly Bellatrix charged forward and grabbed Hermione by her upper arm. Gone was the tenderness Hermione had been allowed to witness for the briefest of moments. She threw Hermione onto the bed and the younger woman sank into the mattress. She barely had time to blink before Bellatrix had crawled on top of her and straddled her. As Hermione looked up she found herself staring into deranged black eyes and in that instant she was back at Malfoy Manor, pinned to the cold wooden floor. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly and her throat became dry.

"This is for taking my foolish sister," Bellatrix said and slapped Hermione across her cheek. A bright red handprint remained behind and tears sprung into Hermione's eyes as she forced herself not to look away. Bellatrix fingers then caressed the area where she had hit Hermione and a disdainful smile appeared on her face. "And this is for abandoning me!"

A second slap, far more painful than the first one, followed and Hermione immediately felt the stinging sensation of a bruise beginning to form. She swallowed hard and writhed underneath the dark haired woman but was not allowed to move. The rough material of Bellatrix's dress felt harsh and against her bare flesh, leaving friction burns there where their bodies rubbed together. Desperation and longing grew stronger inside of Hermione and she pressed her pelvis up, making contact with Bellatrix's lower body. The older woman arched an eyebrow.

"Play nicely now," Bellatrix hissed before her tongue violently invaded Hermione's mouth and was greeted by an almost as violent tongue. Their kiss was bruising and passionate. As Hermione's hands slipped up to caress the dark ringlets, Bellatrix's fingers closed around Hermione's wrists and pinned her into the mattress with just one hand. With her arms above her head she stared up to the woman towering over her and Hermione smiled. Bellatrix had not yet realised that this was exactly what she wanted.

There was no tenderness. Bellatrix's free hand slipped down Hermione's breasts, briefly caressing the hardened nipples, before eagerly slipping down between her legs. Slender fingers were greeted by warm moisture and she roughly inserted two digits inside. Hermione arched her back when she felt Bellatrix enter her and forced her body up, pressing against the other woman's body. Suddenly the friction caused by her velour dress was more erotic than anything Hermione had ever felt before and as Bellatrix's hungry mouth attacked the side of her neck and sucked down on her pulse, her eyes closed and she gave in. The scent of Bellatrix's hair, the black curls tickling her face as Bellatrix's fingers moved deeply in and out of her, scent her into a world of dark magic she had never felt before.

Hermione cried when she reached her orgasm. Her body jerked and writhed, with beads of sweat covering her skin like a silky soft blanket. Her muscles tightened around Bellatrix's ever faster moving fingers as she begged for more. The tears streamed down her face, seeping into Bellatrix's hair before making contact with her skin. Never did those bruising lips leave her neck, never did those strong hands move from her wrists. The pain was sharp and endless and still she desired more. Bruises had begun to form on her skin but it was the pain that made her feel alive. She craved it, needed it. Hermione's eyes were wide open and for the first time she truly saw the woman she imagined every time she touched herself. But now she was here. Bellatrix was real.

But she was gone before her heart had stopped racing and before she had slowly slipped off the orgasmic wave. Her face was still wet with tears, drawn from the depths of her soul. Her bed remained cold and empty and her body shivered as a chilly wind invaded her bedroom through an open window. A second ago Bellatrix had been here, now all there was left but silence and emptiness. Hermione rolled over, onto her side, and pressed her face into the pillow. Bellatrix's scent still lingered there, on her sheets, and she inhaled deeply. Her body still trembled as she wrapped the sheets around herself, locking in the remaining erotic perfume on her skin. She lay there, alone, with just a lingering scent to remind her of the woman who had disappeared.

~()~

Harry had called for an Order meeting and Hermione found herself yet again sitting in the Burrow dining room. She did not want to talk to anybody, see anyone. She could not bear to meet their eyes and there was a part of her that did not care one bit about Harry's family. So she stared at the damaged table's surface, covered in scratches from years of use. Her long sleeves covered the clear dark purple finger marks on her wrists and a scarf covered the bite marks on her neck. She sat slumped in her chair, her arms folded across her chest. She had not even touched her cup of tea.

"We need to do something," Harry said slowly, looking around the table. "I can't leave them there to die."

"As if they would really come to safe you if it was the other way around, Harry. They'd be glad to see the end of you, probably," Hermione said sarcastically and felt several sets of eyes snap in her direction. She had barely been aware she had actually spoken out loud but when she met Narcissa's piercing eyes, the only time she allowed herself to look up, she realised she had. She shrugged. "Just saying."

"They may not have treated me the way Dumbledore had intended but they are still my family," Harry said, ignoring Hermione's unexpected outburst. Instead his intense green eyes wandered around the table, looking at the faces of all those present. They were his friends, his family by choice. But the blood in his veins he shared with only one other person, as much as he hated Petunia. She was his blood. And it was the only reminder of his mother he had left. "Voldemort is using them to coax me out. It is not the first time." The memory of what happened at the Ministry many years before still filled them all with sadness. "I should have seen this coming."

"We don't even know where they are, Harry," Molly said but at the head of the table Kingsley sat up.

"We assumed it was Malfoy Manor, like before. After the recent attack we discovered that it has however not been used as a new headquarters. I had some of the Aurors do a background research on some of the Death Eaters we saw that night, starting with the Lestranges. But their family home was seized and destroyed by the Ministry immediately after the war," Kingsley said and to his right Narcissa nodded. She had known Lestrange Manor well, having visited a lot during Voldemort's reign. Bellatrix had been like a queen in her castle. "Black Manor was destroyed after the arrest of Bellatrix Lestrange in 1981. All that remains is an open, barren field but we did learn that another Death Eater is the legal owner of a property although it has been abandoned for years."

"And they only just discovered this now?" Ron sounded spiteful.

"Imagine the destroyed state Hogwarts was in after the battle," Kingsley said slowly. Nobody at the table needed a reminder of what the once beautiful castle had looked like immediately after Voldemort's fall. It had been destroyed, with all its pride and glory, and reduced to a pile of smouldering rubble. Hermione sometimes still imagined the flames as they ate away at the ancient stone and the dark clouds circling up into the sky. "This small castle is located somewhere in Cheshire and has been abandoned for years. It is overgrown, without electricity or running water. To many Muggles it is just another ancient historic site. To an old Wizarding family it was once a home."

Arthur Weasley, who sat at the other end of the table, looked at Kingsley. There was a hint of disbelief in his voice. "I thought MacNair Castle was destroyed?"

"It was," Kingsley clarified. Only his booming voice could calm the racing nerves around the table. "Many moons ago, long before the world even knew of Voldemort. The MacNairs have always had affiliations with the Dark Arts, from the moment they appeared in History. Their bloodline dates back to the time of Merlin himself and it is claimed they are related to Morgan Le Fey, although there is no solid proof. There is perhaps no darker blood than theirs. The castle was destroyed by a rivalling family and was left to be taken over by nature. All that remains is a ruin."

"Ruins can be rebuilt," said Minerva with determination and Hermione's eyes snapped up at the sound of the woman's Scottish lilt. She almost felt ashamed to meet her eyes but found her former mentor looking at her. Hermione recognised the worry and the fear and averted her gaze and went back to staring at her hands. "Who is to say MacNair castle was not restored too?"

"We tried finding out," Kingsley said and Hermione judged from his delicate way of phrasing the sentence that this was not the end of the story. Around the table people sat up and Hermione observed Andromeda next to her fold her hands in her lap. Kingsley took a deep breath. "Nobody can find it, Minerva. The location of the ruin is quite specific but all there seems to be is the river that springs from the surrounding hills and finds its way into the village. If there ever was a castle it is no longer there."

"Or someone has placed an enchantment on it," Harry said and Kingsley slowly nodded. That was exactly the conclusion the Ministry had come to. Harry's intense green eyes searched around the table. There was a vague hint of accusation in his voice. "The Fidelius Charm is what keeps The Burrow unseen from Death Eaters. Who is to say that MacNair didn't do the same? Add some basic Muggle protection to it and you have an impenetrable fortress. Perfect for bringing back the dead and holding Death Eater meetings."

"If that is indeed where Voldemort is holding Harry's aunt and uncle, the only way in for us would be for one of the Death Eaters to tell one of us the location," Ron said and Hermione observed how is eyes subconsciously seemed to find Narcissa. She met his gaze with piercing ice cold eyes and Ron suddenly seemed flustered. He fell silent and his words seemed to get lost in the voices rising from those sitting around the table. The more time she spent here, the more Hermione began to dread the Order meetings. Sitting around talking about things that needed to be done meant nothing. Words had never solved anything.

"Ron, Harry, I am putting you in charge of keeping an eye on some of the Death Eaters. We know Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange frequent Malfoy Manor. Those two and Lucius are our best lead. I have arranged for a team to be ready when you leave here tonight so you can start your watch straight away," Kingsley said and the two friends nodded. Hermione knew there would be no task for her. Whatever had happened at Malfoy Manor before seemed to have been her fault. Nobody said it but she knew they were thinking it.

In the next ten or fifteen minutes people went their own way but Hermione overheard Ron call for Narcissa, asking whether he could talk to her for a moment. Instead of following Andromeda out of the house, Hermione lingered around in the kitchen and pretended she was helping Molly and Ginny put some cups away. Ron was standing in the door way leading to the staircase, facing the kitchen. Narcissa's back was turned towards the others and judging from her body language it was obvious she was not amused by whatever Ron had said before. Their voices were low, hushed, but it was clear the discussion, or argument, was becoming more intense.

"I am sure Miss Granger would appreciate it if you did not stick your nose in her business, Mr Weasley," Hermione heard Narcissa hiss and a cold shiver crept down her spine. "I will remind you that I do not approve of your accusations in any form. If Miss Granger is indeed, as you call it, sleeping with someone and has chosen not to share this information, I am sure she has her reasons. Now, if you do not mind, there are things I need to attend to. Goodnight, Mr Weasley."

When Narcissa turned around she found Hermione standing in the kitchen and their eyes connected. The older witch said nothing and instead walked straight past the brunette, who spun around and ran after her into the night. She grabbed hold of Narcissa's arm and the other witch turn around. Their gazes locked.

"What did he say to you?" Hermione asked. She had her hand already in her pocket, ready to draw her wand and hex Ron into oblivion from where she was standing.

"Somehow Mr Weasley seemed to be under the impression you and I are in some kind of a relationship," Narcissa said and Hermione detected a vague hint of disapproval in her voice. A smirk spread across Hermione's lips, even though Narcissa was most definitely not impressed. "I am not sure why he came to that conclusion but I saw to it that I corrected his line of thought."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up and she rolled her eyes. "It takes a little bit more than that to change Ron's line of thought, I am afraid. A brain transplant, perhaps."

She looked over her shoulder as she felt eyes burn into her back. She and Narcissa were the last ones left. Everybody else was already gone. Ron was standing in the front door, looking out into the night. She knew he was watching them and she knew he did not believe a word Narcissa had told him. Hermione sighed to herself, feeling fresh frustration roar in the pit of her stomach. Her body ached, screamed, longed for Bellatrix. She had not showered since their encounter, wanting to feel her forever on her skin. She had not eaten or slept. She wanted to be awake because every waking minute meant she could remember.

The explosion came out of nowhere. In a split second the night was lit up by a bright flash of light and the wild flames instantly surrounded them, quickly burning down the fields that surrounded the Burrow. From inside the house the screaming erupted, followed by the sound of breaking glass. Hermione spun around and raced towards the eyes, the flames reflecting in her hazel eyes. She heard Narcissa right behind her and the two of them reached the front door immediately. Ron was gone but when Hermione stepped into the kitchen she found Molly Weasley slumped down to the floor, her face covered in her blood and her arm twisted in an unnatural position. Her wand had rolled away.

"How did they even know where we were?" Narcissa shouted as she and Hermione both sprinted up the stairs and encountered Mr Weasley sending jinxes to someone on the landing they couldn't see. Hermione ducked under his arm and ran forwards, ignoring the cries from behind her to take cover. Adrenaline rushed through her and it was as if she lost all common sense. She reached the landing to find Rabastan Lestrange, with his wand drawn and his eyes brightly alive with anger. But before he could take aim and fire his hex, she had done the same and her spell reached his chest, just above his heart. The surprise filled his eyes just before his body fell backwards. He was not unconscious. Hermione sought support from the wall as the bile rose in the back of her throat. The jet that had shot from her wand was green. Rabastan Lestrange was dead.

"Where's Molly?" she heard Arthur shout behind her. Narcissa shouted something back and Arthur seemed to run down the stairs. Above her head she could hear the sound of running footsteps, wood being shattered and more broken glass. Realising it had to be Ron Hermione charged in the direction of the second flight of stairs but had no chance to climb them. As she reached the bottoms step, something large and heavy crashed into her, sending her flying into the nearest wall. Her head bounced of the stone, instantly blurring her vision. Her wand almost slipped from her fingers but she held on. The weight that rested on her suddenly registered in her head and she automatically extended her arms to push it off her. Only then did she realise that it was a body. And it was not moving.

He lay still on the wooden landing, his eyes blankly staring up to the ceiling. His hair had fallen in his eyes and she sat for a moment, frozen, as she stared at him. Death seemed so natural. It left no marks. He looked perfect, not a single drop of blood on him. The blue shade of his eyes had already begun to change, glazing over. Blue intensity was replaced by the emptiness of death. Never again would he smile. His ginger hair was a mess and his skin seemed suddenly so much paler. He still clutched his wand, safely between his fingers. She reached out a trembling hand and touched his. He was still warm. But he was dead. Ron Weasley was dead.

Hermione didn't know whether she wanted to scream, cry or remain silent. Her eyes were drawn to the top of the stairs from where Ron had just fallen and her heart froze in her chest when she recognised the black skirts. All she wanted was to fly up the steps and throw herself at the other woman's feet. Bellatrix looked down at her from the top floor in a mixture of pity and amusement. A sad little smile lingered on ruby lips as she found Hermione sitting on the ground, forlorn, deciding whether or not to cradle her dead friend's body.

Bellatrix slowly descended down the stairs and reached Hermione. Strong hands pulled her up onto her feet and pressed her against her chest. It felt comforting though Hermione knew it wasn't. Just as Bellatrix's arms closed around her, footsteps came running up the stairs, followed by desperate cries of pain and horror. Arthur Weasley appeared first, followed by his bleeding wife. Both stumbled and then stalled in their step when they reached the landing where they found their son lying on his back and Hermione standing beside Bellatrix and in that instant the raven haired Death Eater Dissaparated, dragging Hermione along with her.

The last thing Hermione heard was someone calling out her name.

~()~

Even in the darkness it was not hard to tell that MacNair Castle had been rebuilt. When they emerged from the shadows Hermione stared up at the darkened windows behind which candle lights flickered. It rose up from the lumpy grass. There were no neat kept gardens, no flower beds and topiary. There were no walls, no gates. All there was were the Castle walls. It was its sole protection from the outside world. As they approached Hermione turned to Bellatrix. Her eyes swam with angry tears.

"You killed Ron!"

"He fell down the stairs," Bellatrix said dismissively without even looking at Hermione. They were only a few steps away from the door. Bellatrix held still and drew her wand. Hermione watched how she drew a symbol into the air. Briefly it lit up and Hermione thought it most resembled some form of key, but not like any key she had ever seen. Bellatrix shrugged and glanced at Hermione. "Stupid idiot can't even engage in a proper duel without tripping over his own feet."

Hermione was too stunned to answer and stared at the raven haired witch.

"The Dark Lord doesn't know you're here," Bellatrix said sharply and took Hermione's arm. There was something cold and distant in her eyes and it infuriated Hermione. She knew she was being fooled. Nothing about this had ever been real. None of it, and yet she was here, at Bellatrix's side, willingly. And none of it made sense.

"The Dark Lord kidnapped Harry's aunt and uncle and you come along and kidnap me? In case you haven't noticed, Harry and I aren't on the best of speaking terms these days," Hermione said menacingly and pulled her arm free from Bellatrix. The dark witch stared at her, bewildered. "Are you and the Dark Lord even on the same side because it seems to me you two are miles apart."

"You miss the point, Granger," Bellatrix hissed and a menacing smile appeared on her face. "You'll understand soon enough."

Reluctantly Hermione approached the front door. She hesitated for a brief moment but even that split second was too long. Bellatrix was right behind her and the dark witch's fingers caressed the door handle. It swung open and revealed the dark entrance behind it. Hermione had no choice and stepped over the threshold. She was in the lair on evil itself and there was no way back.


	13. Know No Bounds

**Chapter 13**

The stone floors were hard and the bitter cold had numbed her bones. A lonely candle had been left in what was supposed to be a window sill, its tiny flame illuminating her surroundings. This was nothing like her perfect, immaculate home. She could not be further away from her floral sofa, her perfectly tidy living room and the comforting heat from the fireplace. Here there were no pictures of her son looking back at her, smiling from every angle. Here she found herself alone, tormented by thoughts she never even knew still lived in her head. She had been forced to confront her own fears, except that no lie could ever undo the truth as it had happened in her life.

She had seen things, heard things too. She was not quite sure what exactly happened between these walls but she knew she wasn't alone. _He _was here; the one who had murdered her sister that fateful night in Godric's Hollow. The one who had taken away some of the purest innocence she had ever known; a monster that had robbed a child of its parents, no matter how abnormal they had been. A child she had been left to raise but could never come to love.

Somewhere above her a door opened and her eyes snapped up. In the darkness she could hear the sound of footsteps, high above her. Voices whispered. The voice a woman, but she could not hear what she was saying. The brief moment of excitement, the anticipation of seeing another living soul, died in her chest and with a sigh she sat back down. She had wandered all around this room, her unforgiving prison cell, but found no way out other than the bolted door. She didn't know how long she had been here. It was dark outside. The covered window allowed for some light to fall through but it had been awhile since she last saw the sun.

Petunia Dursley sat back down, resting her back against the stone wall. An empty plate and goblet stood beside her. They had appeared out of nowhere a few hours ago and she had stared at them for some time, reluctant to touch the food or drink the water. But eventually the pain in her stomach had made her pick up the bread before sipping from the goblet. Now she stared at them, almost longingly, as her stomach rumbled again. She thought of her own kitchen. She had been cooking Sunday dinner for her and Vernon, ready for when Dudley and his wife Karen came to pick up their twins, Caitlin and Noah. The girl and boy were asleep upstairs in their cots when there was a knock on the door. She had asked Vernon to open it. He had grunted a reply, annoyed that she had disturbed him as he watched the cricket. But when he did not come back after five minutes she had wiped her hands on her tea towel and went to check. Perhaps he was talking to that crazy old bat Mrs Figg from down the road. When they had moved back into number 4 Privet Drive after the war she had hoped the old woman had left. Nothing could be further from the truth. She and her cats were still there.

But when Petunia had reached the front door she found Vernon was nowhere to be seen. The front door was wide open, allowing the pouring rain to drip freely into her freshly polished hallway and she sighed in irritation before picking up the nearest umbrella and stepping outside. Privet Drive was abandoned, as could be expected in this hour. When she turned around to step back into the house she found the dark cloaked figure standing behind her. The man was tall, with an ugly scar across his cheek. He looked like he had not had a shave, or a bath, for at least a week and her eyebrows shot up at the sight of his dodgy looking cloak. The last time she had seen one of those strange outfits was on him; that foolish man her sister had married. Before she could say anything he took something from his pocket. Something that looked like a stick but Petunia knew exactly what it was.

"Put that away," she began but her voice trailed off as the bright red jet hit her in her chest. The last thing she saw was the dark cloaked man wrapping an arm around her waist.

When she had woken up Petunia had found herself here, alone. She had no idea where Vernon was. Whoever had captured her did not show his face again. Her food and drink were delivered by magic and she had no choice but to accept. Petunia Dursley was now a prisoner of magic, the one thing in this world she despised the most, and she had begun to realise that it was only magic that could set her free.

~()~

MacNair Castle looked much like a ruin on the inside. The walls had been hastily restored and every so often there was a gap or even a hole through which the bitter cold wind invaded. Hermione watched her own breath turn into little clouds as she followed Bellatrix through what seemed like endless corridors. Most of the rooms did not have doors; the hinges were hanging off where the door once had been. There was little to no furniture in the rooms and the Castle itself was illuminated by strategically placed magical candles and the odd fire lit torch on the wall. Hermione held still by one of the broken windows and allowed herself to gaze outside. Apart from the open fields there were trees, naked and haunting looking creations. They seemed strangely small as she peered through the dirty glass. She looked up when she realised Bellatrix had stopped walking. Standing by one of the candles the raven haired witch looked strangely angelic.

"Enjoying the scenery?" she said sarcastically and Hermione averted her gaze. Her heart was beating faster with every passing second. She knew where she was. She knew what this place had been and what it served as now. Bellatrix began walking again in a powerful, almost urgent stride. "Come on."

Hermione followed the other woman, her eyes fixed on the waterfall of black ringlets that danced across her back. Bellatrix's slender fingers caressed the cold stone as she walked and Hermione found herself doing the stone. It felt rough and harsh under her skin. There was not a single trace of anyone ever trying to make this place feel, or look, like a home. Hermione held still when Bellatrix reached a spiral staircase and began her climb. Curious hazel eyes followed the older woman up until she had disappeared from her sight. Hermione hesitantly took hold of the railing and followed Bellatrix. When she finally made it to the top of the stairs she found they were standing in yet another corridor. This one was almost completely dark.

And it was in this darkness that the images flooded back into her mind; the face of her friend as he lay dead at her feet. Ron's eyes still wide open, staring into nothing but an endless eternity. He had looked so flawless, for the first time in his life, and his hand had felt warm under her own. As the thought crossed her mind Hermione brought the tips of her fingers to her lips as if to kiss them. Tears burnt behind her eyes, unexpectedly, but she briskly shook her head. The tears could wait. There would be another day.

"Here," Bellatrix said sharply and the sound of her voice roused Hermione from her thoughts. Bellatrix stood half way down the dark corridor and had opened a heavy wooden door, revealing what once had been a bedroom. Torn curtains hung in front of dark windows. The four poster bed looked like it had seen better days, the sheets stained and tainted by the hands of time. An old rug covered a large part of the wooden floor and an old dresser stood in the furthest corner. Large, ornate pictures covered the walls. Sceneries of places Hermione had never known. The paintings depicted scenes of angels and gods, fighting an endless war. As she walked into the room she realised she was looking up at scenes from the Greek Mythology and she turned to look at Bellatrix whilst pointing at the largest of the paintings.

"The death of Hyacinth," she breathed and for a moment both she and Bellatrix stared up at the painted scene of Apollo cradling his lover in the final moments before death. The realisation of where Walden MacNair had first discovered the legend of the Ruby Hyacinth was not a myth struck Hermione and she swallowed. "So this is where he first learnt of its existence."

Bellatrix looked at Hermione from the corner of her eye. In the delicate light of the moon she seemed so much younger. "Things are complicated."

"There's the understatement of the year," Hermione said and looked at Bellatrix. She had expected to be chained, to be tortured. Bellatrix had not even touched her since they arrived. It was as if the darker haired witch trusted her not to leave. She had done nothing to bind Hermione to her. "What on Earth is going on?"

"The Dark Lord wants Potter and he has acquired a way of bringing the boy to him, shall we say," Bellatrix said and a menacing smirk appeared on her face. Hermione knew she was talking about the kidnap of Harry's aunt and uncle and she curiously eyed Bellatrix up. It seemed too simple, too easy. Even for Voldemort it was almost not worth trying. "When he does, well, let's just say that the Dark Lord will rid the world of the Boy Who Lived once and for all."

Hermione took a step in Bellatrix's direction. The anticipation grew and the tension between them quickly rose. Intense hazel eyes pierced into ink black. The tip of Bellatrix's tongue licked her lips. "If the Dark Lord has found a way then why do you need me?"

"He doesn't," Bellatrix whispered "But I do."

Hermione had no chance to respond. Bellatrix's lips had caught hers before she could even breathe and without warning the older woman grabbed hold of her. A deep groan escaped from Hermione's throat when she encountered Bellatrix's tongue and she willingly let herself be pushed into the direction of the bed. The sheets were dusty and it prickled her nose when she fell backwards but when she looked up to find Bellatrix hovering over her, Hermione forgot all about the dust.

As Bellatrix straddled her, Hermione found herself clumsily attempting to hoist up the older woman's skirts. Bellatrix seemed reluctant at first but when Hermione's fingernails grazed the inside of her thigh a twisted moan left her throat and she threw her head back in pleasure. Realising that Bellatrix enjoyed her touch, Hermione let her hands travel up until she encountered the lace of Bellatrix's corset. She muttered something under her breath and the knots came undone. Slowly the black velvet slipped down porcelain skin and Hermione gasped as Bellatrix's perfect breasts were revealed. They were full and firm, with dark pink nipples, already swollen without even being touched. Her skin was flawless and pure and Hermione felt, for a moment, as if she was cherishing a newly found treasure. Bellatrix's dress now rested around her waist and the harsh leather of her boots pressed into the skin of Hermione's thighs. The young brunette could feel the raven haired woman's warm core press down against her skin and she smiled to herself.

A silent spell, cast without the use of her wand, removed Hermione's clothing and whatever was left of Bellatrix's. They were naked and Hermione stared up at the dark witch on top of her. Bellatrix peered back at her through her heavy lidded eyes. Lust flickered in her black orbs and hungry lips attacked Hermione's skin. Hermione's teeth sank into delicate porcelain flesh as their bodies rocked together in a strong rhythm. The dampness between Bellatrix's legs only grew as Hermione's nails scratched down her back before tracing the round shapes of her backside.

Bellatrix tasted of sweetness and erotic spices when Hermione dipped her tongue into her damp core, exploring the sensual and erotic sex of her lover. Bellatrix had pulled up her legs and slender fingers ran through Hermione's hair as she slowly inserted two digits inside of her. The tip of her tongue flicked across the swollen little button before her teeth sank down into it, causing Bellatrix to whimper. Her back arched and her body jerked and shook as Hermione made love to her. Beads of sweat covered both their bodies and Bellatrix's fingers dug deeply into Hermione's shoulders, leaving behind bleeding grazes across her skin, as she hit her orgasm.

Hermione lay on her back, her eyes fixed on the face of the woman the rest of the world feared. Her right hand sunk deep into the mattress as her left hand grasped a tight hold of Bellatrix's black hair. Bellatrix's full lips had closed around one of her nipples, biting down roughly as her fingers moved in and out of Hermione, causing her body to shake and tremble. The slick wetness only grew as her thumb caressed the swollen bundle of nerves and as Hermione exploded into an orgasm, Bellatrix's lips moved from her nipple to her mouth. Hermione's teeth sank into Bellatrix's lips, drawing blood. And as their bodies lay together, tangled up in a mess of limbs and racing hearts, they tasted blood on their lips.

~()~

It was still dark when Hermione woke up. Her eyes fluttered open and for a few moments she did not know where she was. The room was unfamiliar and the bed was not her own. She slowly rolled over and felt her breath die in her throat when she saw Bellatrix asleep beside her. Bellatrix lay on her stomach, her head resting on one arm. Some of her raven curls had fallen into her eyes and Hermione gently brushed them aside. She was naked. They were both naked. The dusty old sheets partially covered their bodies. Her eyes were drawn to the window. Thousands of stars glistened against the midnight backdrop. It could have been an amazing view if she hadn't known where she was or what she had done.

Hermione slowly sat up and looked around for her wand. It lay on the floor, right beside her. She reached down and picked it up. As she held it she glanced at Bellatrix. There was so much she could do. She could undo all of this, make it all go away. The female Death Eater would never even know they had met. She could change everything. But she didn't. Instead she looked around and aimed her wand at nothing in particular.

"Accio clothes."

Her clothes landed at her feet and Hermione silently slipped out of the bed. She shivered for a moment, as she was naked, and let her eyes wander down her body. In the weak light she barely recognised herself. She got dressed and turned around. Bellatrix looked strangely peaceful and she felt her heart wrench in her chest. Her body bore the markings of the passion they had shared and her heart cried out to stay. But it was her brain that proved stronger and she averted her eyes and located the door. Yielding her wand and careful not to bump into anything she walked away from the bed and her fingers closed around the door handle. The door creaked as she opened it and Hermione glanced over her shoulder. Bellatrix did not wake and a sigh escaped from her chest. Leaving the room was painful and she did not bother closing the door. She found herself standing in the dark corridor and hesitated for a moment before slowly making her way back the way she had come hours earlier.

The Castle was shrouded in darkness and silence. The sound of her boots echoed off the stone walls and her heart hammered in her chest. She did not dare to illuminate her path and slowly descended down the staircase. The corridor below was lit up by candles and torches and her eyes welcomed the light. Hermione looked around, making sure she was indeed alone, and froze when she heard footsteps coming from down the corridor. She took a deep breath and pressed herself against the wall, in the shadows. The footsteps approached, became louder, and just when she thought that whoever was there would come around the corner and find her, they died out. She heard a door open and close and some shuffling in the room down the hall. From there she reached the front door without any obstacles but when she tried to open it she found it was locked.

"Alohomora."

Nothing happened.

She tried a few more spells but nothing unlocked the door. Then she remembered the key she had seen Bellatrix draw in the air with her wand and mimicked what she had seen the other witch do. The key broke the magical seal and unlocked the door, revealing the midnight sky outside. Hermione rushed out of the castle and ran as fast as she could across the lump grass, through the barren trees and away from MacNair Castle. As she looked over her shoulder the fortress grew smaller in the distance and her heart ached in her chest, her lungs pressing against her ribcage. She stood panting for a few moments and then turned on the spot and disappeared.

~()~

She had heard them walk, their footsteps resounding long after they had gone. She had heard their laughter, high above her head. She had heard them scream and cry as they engaged in their passion. The woman's voices still echoed through her mind and she had rested her head in her hands, pleading, wishing that it would all just go away. She tried not to think of the two women in the bed two floors above her. She prayed that she would open her eyes and find that it had all been a very bad dream. But she was still here, in the darkness. She was still alone. And the haunting sounds of her prison continued. She had heard one of them leave, her footsteps hurried as if she was desperately trying to run without being heard. She had heard the other person too, entering a room. It was a sound that had come to mean something to her. That door right above her head opened a lot throughout the day and night. They had come home after the women had gone quiet. The footsteps reminded her most of the ghost stories she had heard as a child. Someone was there, doing something. Something that would change everything.

Petunia Dursley wished that it would all just end.

~()~

Hermione stared at the Burrow for some time. She stood between the trees that surrounded the Weasley home, unsure what to do. The longer she stood there, the more she remembered. The moment Rabastan Lestrange had appeared. The spell had left her lips so easily. It had happened so quick she had barely realised what she was doing. Not until she watched his body slumped on the floor, eyes wide open and hair messed up, had she realised she had taken alive. And she had hovered over him for a while and had felt nothing. Her heart had been empty.

And then there was Ron, poor, sweet old Ron. He had hoped to die an old man, with a wife, six kids and ten grandchildren and a career to be proud off. Instead he died as a bitter young man with a broken heart and the intellectual range of a teaspoon. She could still see him, at her feet. And her eyes had snapped up to find Bellatrix watching down at him. Had he really fallen down the stairs? It would not have been a first. The answer to that question was the one thing Hermione would not admit to herself. Not here, not now. Not tonight.

She took a deep breath, drew her wand and did the only thing she could do. She began running towards the Burrow as fast as her feet could possibly carry her and broke through the invisible defences, reaching the front door. Panting and with tears in her eyes she banged on the front door, fists clenched, and continued banging until someone opened. Her fists made contact with Bill Weasley's chest and without thinking Hermione threw herself into his arms and wept.

Within seconds she was surrounded by the others and she could see the grief on their faces. Molly Weasley's eyes were bloodshot and there were red rings around them. Her tears had only just dried. Arthur Weasley looked grey and ten years older. Both hugged Hermione and as she rested her head on their shoulders she felt like a traitor for the very first time. When her eyes found Harry, his arms safely wrapped around his crying wife, she broke out of the embrace and rushed towards him. She flung her arms around his neck and she, Harry and Ginny sat like that for a few more minutes.

"Hermione."

She looked up. It was Narcissa. The older woman stood behind her and their eyes connected. In that moment she saw Bellatrix again, lying beside her, sleeping. Hermione felt her stomach turn and she fought not to be sick. She slowly stood up and approached the youngest sister. As she looked past Narcissa she found Andromeda standing by the window and for a moment she wondered if either of them knew the truth. She swallowed and looked up to meet Narcissa's gaze.

"Narcissa," she whispered softly and allowed the other witch to take her hand. Narcissa's thumb caressed the back of her hand, pressing down gently and she guided Hermione to the sofa. She sat down with a grateful smile and her eyes were drawn to the fire. The flames were eating away at the large logs, reducing to smouldering piles of ashes. It was how she felt inside; as if she was being burnt alive until there was nothing left.

Narcissa looked down at her hands holding Hermione's. "How did you get away?"

"I fought her," Hermione lied and her throat became dry and sore. "Bellatrix took me to MacNair castle and locked me…" Her voice trailed off. Narcissa could create her own image as to what Bellatrix would do to a mudblood locked in a room. She had seen her do it before. The tears welling up in Hermione's eyes were not out of anguish over what had happened. "I-I found my wand on the floor. She had kicked it away but she wasn't looking. Thought that I was dead maybe."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed but she searched Hermione's face. "My sister seems to have a hidden agenda."

"Bella always had a hidden agenda," Andromeda said, having overheard Hermione's story. She sat down beside the younger brunette and briefly glanced at Narcissa holding Hermione's hands. Then she looked back up. There was a glint of hope in her eye and for the first time Hermione registered energy in the darker haired witch's voice. "Did you say she took you to MacNair Castle?"

Hermione nodded.

"Can you reveal its location?" Andromeda urged and suddenly Hermione realised why Bellatrix had taken her to the Castle. The pieces fell into place and her eyes widened. It had been a trick. It was yet another way of luring her into her trap. She sat up and looked at Andromeda. The resemblance was torture but she held her composure.

"I can take you there."

Andromeda stood up and hurried off to find Kingsley and Minerva, who were talking to Molly and Arthur in the kitchen. As she left, the energy she radiated left with her and Hermione felt deflated. She stood up and walked to the window. Gazing out into the night she imagined the Castle clearly in her head. She could take the Order there. She didn't know what they would find but she knew it was what Bellatrix expected and what the Ministry wanted.

"She took me there on purpose," she whispered to herself as she placed her hand against the cold glass. The cold was a stark contrast to the heat and pain she felt inside. It felt as if she was burning up. The raging emotions and conflicting thoughts were driving her to the edge of insanity and as she stared at her own blurred reflection in the glass she didn't recognise the young woman looking back at her.

"Bellatrix took you there on purpose?" Narcissa repeated and Hermione's head whipped around. There was disbelief in the other woman's voice. She looked at Hermione from head to toe. Her hair fell down the sides of her face in an unruly mess. There were dark rings around her bloodshot eyes and her expression was gaunt and pale. Hermione's skin had been drained from all colour. "Are you seriously considering that my sister may have been aiding you?"

Hermione flared up and anger roared in the pit of her stomach. Narcissa's ignorance infuriated her. "Who is to say she isn't?"

"For Merlin's sake, Hermione! Bellatrix killed Ron!"

"He fell down the stairs!"

Narcissa arched an eyebrow. "And you believe that?"

"I suppose we will never know."

Hermione turned away from Narcissa, grabbed her wand of the table and walked out of the living room back into the dining room. There the other Weasleys were sitting around the table, joined by Kingsley and Minerva and they all looked up when Hermione entered. Anticipation flickered in their eyes and Hermione sought out Harry. She recognised the same fury, the same hatred, she had seen back in Hogwarts and in her chest her heart broke apart. She took a deep breath.

"I can take you MacNair Castle," she said, ignoring Narcissa as she appeared behind her in the door way. "I can take you to Voldemort."


	14. Missing Hope

**A/N: **Wow, so many reviews. You guys are making this story so much more special. I look forward to the times I open my mailbox and find those lovely comments you have all left behind. I am still quite in the dark about this story though I think this chapter provides some answers...

* * *

**Chapter 14**

Harry's rage was unlike anything Hermione had ever seen before. The hatred in his eyes matched the same look she had seen the night Hogwarts was destroyed. The atmosphere in the Burrow reminded her of that same night. They were struck by grief, fuelled by hatred and guided by despair. Outside the rain had begun to fall and lashed violently against the windows. Every so often a bright flash of lightening would illuminate their faces. Hermione had watched the drops slide down the glass almost in the same way as Molly Weasley's silent tears trickled down her cheeks.

She had given them the location of MacNair Castle and had tried to tell them what it looked like on the inside but there wasn't much to tell. None of them asked what Bellatrix had done to her. Hermione didn't tell. There were some things people didn't have to ask to know. She knew they had formed their own images in their heads and she could not bear to change those visions. She sat silently as she stared at her hands and imagined Bellatrix still asleep in the bed they had shared. Not a word fell from her lips as the others spoke. She was too lost in her conflicting thoughts and memories and found herself staring at the faces of her friends, not quite recognising who she saw.

Kingsley had attempted to subdue Harry's anger but he was determined that they could not wait. The urgency, the desperation to throw himself into something without thinking about the consequences was so typically Harry. He was blinded by hatred, much like Remus Lupin had pointed out all those years ago. But Remus was not here tonight. He had lost his life during that fateful night at Hogwarts. He had been the last person Harry listened to. Now there was no one left.

"They killed Ron! They captured my aunt and uncle and Merlin knows what they are doing to them right at this moment!" Harry spoke loudly, instantly silencing the other voices around the table. He didn't even want to think about the things Voldemort was doing to Vernon and Petunia. Narcissa, who sat to Harry's left, looked defeated. She had attempted to persuade Harry to wait. Hermione watched her glance at Draco beside her. Harry's green eyes were blazing. "They took Hermione and tortured her!"

Hermione's head snapped up and she found several people staring at her. She wanted to hide, to run away as far as she possibly could. She could not cope with them staring at her and she stood up with such force that she knocked over her chair. Without thinking she ran out of the room, towards the stairs and fled to the second floor. For a few seconds nobody spoke. Silence lingered throughout the house but as Hermione reached the room that had once been Ron's and reached the window, she heard a chair move downstairs and soon footsteps made their way up the stairs.

"Go away!" she sniffed with a constricted voice and brushed the angry tears from her cheeks. She heard the door open behind her and looked around. Narcissa had appeared in the open door way, compassion flickered in her eyes. Hermione folded her arms in front of her chest. "I said _go away_!"

"Hermione..."

Hermione shook her head and averted her eyes. She stared back out of the window. The Burrow was surrounded by plants and trees and even in the darkness she could make out the shape of trees in the orchard against the dark backdrop. They had spent hours there; the three of them. Ron and Harry would whizz around on their brooms, practicing Quidditch moves, as she sat under one of the trees in the shade and read a book. They would laugh at the gnomes running across the grass and Crookshanks' failed attempts at catching them. She remembered all the summer meals they ate outside; she, Harry and the Weasleys. They would laugh and talk long after the sun had set. The memories almost seemed to be from a different life. Things had changed. She had changed.

"I'm sorry about Ron," Narcissa said kindly and walked across the room and stood still beside Hermione. Together they gazed out of the window, into the rainy night. "I know he was a good friend, Hermione."

"You don't know anything," Hermione bit back and blazing hazel eyes pierced into Narcissa's. "Ron _was _a friend. The friendship died the day I left him because I realised I did not love him. After that he made it his life goal to harass me. He would call me, send me owls, accidentally run into me at the Ministry and, in case you forgot, he placed Aurors outside my house to keep an eye on me. And he cornered _you _about being in a relationship with me. That was the sort of man Ron was. The Ron Weasley I knew when we were teenagers died at Hogwarts that night"

There was a sad expression on Narcissa's face. "We all died at Hogwarts that night."

Hermione remembered the morning after. She had woken up in the Great Hall, surrounded by dust and rubble. The bodies of the dead had been moved and as she wandered around the destroyed castle she had found herself wishing, hoping, that it would not be so. That she would wake up and find that it had all been a nightmare. But as she reached the classroom that was being used for the dead bodies it was a cold, harsh reminder that reality was in fact very real. The bodies of the fallen Death Eaters and Voldemort had been kept in a different room and Hermione was the only one who entered it. She had to see for herself. She was the only one who watched Bellatrix Lestrange in death. She was the only one who kneeled beside her, mesmerized by how perfect she still looked, and had run her fingers through raven curls. Only Hermione had said goodbye.

"I can't let him do this," Hermione whispered and ran her fingers through her hair. The bruises on her wrists were clearly visible as the sleeves of her shirt rolled down and she saw Narcissa look. It was obvious the bruises were finger marks. "He'll kill himself."

"Harry has got quite the temper, hasn't he?" Narcissa said with a little smile. There was a glint in her eye. Hesitantly she placed both her hands on Hermione's shoulders and forced the brunette to look at her. There was a bright flash of lightening, followed by a deafening roar of thunder. The yellow light briefly illuminated Hermione's tear stained face. "Hermione, what is really going on here?"

"Don't do this," Hermione shook her head and reached up to remove Narcissa's hands but the older woman held on. The pressure was strangely soothing and Hermione sighed. Her heart felt as if it was going to break apart in her chest and she closed her eyes. Tears felt hot against her skin. "Just don't do this, Narcissa."

Narcissa's face came closer to Hermione's. Her lips so close she could almost kiss her. "It is Bella, isn't it?"

"NO!" Hermione cried and broke free from Narcissa's touch and turned away from her.

"Do they know?" Narcissa asked and walked around to face Hermione. "Do those people downstairs know they are about to risk their own lives because of you?"

"Because of me? Whatever have I done for them to go out there and kill themselves?" Hermione hissed through clenched teeth. Her hand slipped to the pocket of her jeans, ready to draw her wand but Narcissa was quicker and her fingers closed around Hermione's wrist. "If it wasn't for me they would still be guessing where to go!"

"This isn't right, Hermione," Narcissa said softly and the touch snapped Hermione out of her anger. "Did Bella take you or did you go with her?"

"No," Hermione answered. Suddenly her voice lacked any emotion. Her eyes were blank and she shook her head. She pulled her hand away and took a few steps in the direction of the bedroom door. She did not want to talk to Narcissa. It was clear she knew but Hermione could not admit what had happened. Not to Narcissa and not to herself. She could still feel Bellatrix's hands, e_verywhere_. She could still smell her on her skin, taste her on her lips. With every tear the memory became more vivid. Narcissa stood and watched Hermione as she made her way to the door. She could see the weight resting on her shoulder and sensed the conflicted emotions.

"Obliviate!"

Narcissa had no time to respond. She had been too lost in her own thoughts for just that moment, wondering about Hermione's feelings, that she did not see Hermione reach for her wand. By the time the brunette had turned around it was too late. She aimed her wand at Narcissa and her lips trembled but her hand was firm as she spell fell from her lips. She watched Narcissa's eyes glaze over and the memories were erased and her memory modified.

And Hermione left her standing in Ron's old bedroom, with its bed still made, ready for a guest that would never come. The posters had long ago been removed, as had the pictures and the old wardrobe. Everything that had once made this room Ron's was gone. Hermione descended down te stairs, storing her wand safely in her pocket and returned to the dining area. When she walked through the door she found the others just about getting ready to leave. Realising they were all brandishing their wands she understood where they were going. She was too late. They were going to MacNair Castle and there was nothing she could do about it now.

"Where's mother?" Draco asked, his eyes fixed on the stairs leading to the second floor.

"She'll be along," Hermione said and smiled. "She said she wanted to gather her thoughts before..." Her voice trailed off. Draco understood what she meant and nodded. Hermione turned to look at Harry, who kissed Ginny goodbye before turning to Molly. The others had already walked to the door, Andromeda in the back. She looked over her shoulder at Hermione but continued outside when she saw Hermione approach Harry.

"Harry, can I talk to you for a moment?" Hermione said and smiled at Ginny. She could not even begin to understand the frustration the redhead had to be feeling right at this moment. Her pregnancy prevented her from fighting but Hermione knew Ginny well enough to know she wanted to revenge her brother's death. She could see it in her eyes.

"What is it, Hermione?" Harry said and she could hear the tension in his voice.

"Are you sure we should do this? Tonight?" Hermione asked, ignoring the voices of the others coming from outside. There was a hint of desperation in her words. "Have you thought this through? What are we going to do when we get there? Are you really going to enter into a standoff with Voldemort? You haven't got the Elder Wand, Harry. That bloody thing helped you beat him last time. But now it is just you."

"Just me?" Harry sounded insulted and for the first time in many years he flashed that famous scar on his forehead. She remembered how he had hated it. He still hated it now. His green eyes glistened behind his glasses. "This is what makes me equal to him, Hermione. And I can't just sit here and watch as he tortured my family. I owe it to Dudley to get his parents back. Petunia is the only blood relative I've got left!"

"I know that, Harry, but this is suicide!" Hermione said. She didn't even know why she didn't want Harry to go. It was what Bellatrix wanted. It was why she took her to MacNair Castle. It was what Voldemort expected. And yet she still stood here, telling him not to go. She didn't know what he saw when he looked at her, whether she was still the trustworthy friend to him she had once been. She did not want to shatter his illusion. Not now. She took a deep breath. "This is exactly what they want you to do!"

"If we don't go then my aunt and uncle die," Harry said dismissively and he narrowed his eyes. She could see the tears well up behind them. Pure hatred laced his words and he drew his wand, clutching it safely between his fingers. "If I don't go and face Voldemort tonight, Ron will have died for nothing."

"Ron…" Hermione said but swallowed the rest of her defensive answer. She sighed in defeat and followed Harry out of the house, into the night. The group was waiting for them. Kingsley and Minerva stood furthest away. The latter looked more ferocious and engaging than ever and Hermione thought the Scottish woman looked similar to the night of the Battle of Hogwarts. Fierce and proud like a warrior. Andromeda and Draco stood close together, wearing dark cloaks that protected from the rain. Narcissa had joined them and when her eyes found Hermione they looked at each other but neither of them spoke. Arthur, Bill, Fleur, Charlie and George stood huddled together. Their grief was clearly visible on their faces and Hermione looked over her shoulder to find Molly watching them from the open door and Hermione read her mind. She too wondered how many of them would return alive.

Harry looked around the group. There weren't many of them, hardly enough even. He too was aware that more lives could be lost tonight. He swallowed hard. "Let's go. We have a battle to win!"

~()~

MacNair Castle was dark and seemed abandoned. The members of the Order of the Phoenix stood between the barren trees. Adrenaline rushed through their veins. The rain hammered down on their hoods, creating a haunting and depressing image. The world seemed dark, loveless and forgotten. Hermione stood beside her Minerva McGonagall and she looked up in surprise when she felt her old mentor place a hand on her shoulder. Their gazes locked and Minerva smiled.

"I never got to say how proud I am of you," she said and gave Hermione's shoulder a squeeze. Hermione felt her heart break in her chest at those words. Minerva's voice was supposed to sound encouraging but Hermione detected the fear. "I am fully aware that after tonight I may not get another chance."

"You can tell me when dawn breaks," Hermione answered softly and tried to smile. Minerva nodded and moved to find Kingsley. Hermione let her breath escape. "If, by then, you still feel the same way, that is."

She stared up at the Castle she had abandoned only a few hours ago, leaving Bellatrix asleep. Dawn was not far away. In the distance she could hear the first birds start to sing. She just wished that it wasn't the last time any of them heard it. She wondered how many people were inside, how many Death Eaters were waiting for them. Voldemort could kill them all within seconds. She expected him to be present. He would not miss an opportunity to kill Harry.

There was a bright flash of white light coming from near the Castle's entrance and Kingsley stepped forward. His booming voice echoed through the night and he drew his wand. Instantly the tip ignited, casting an eerie silver glow around him. "That's the sign!"

Like one person they all moved forward, dark shadows in the night. They approached the castle from different sides and not until they reached the walls was the first spell cast. There was an outcry and suddenly the night was alive with sounds, lights and smells. Within seconds the midnight air was full of smoke and the sound of breaking glass echoed through the night. Unidentified shadows shot past her, from every direction, and Hermione could not tell who was who.

Andromeda spun around, deflecting a double purple jet that was cast her way from one of the upstairs windows and she did not hesitate and cast a spell herself. It missed and crashed into a wall instead, crumbling stone to dust. Behind her Arthur Weasley was engaged in a duel with Lucius Malfoy. Hermione recognised the silver blonde hair. From out of nowhere Narcissa appeared, aiding Arthur, and she took over the duel. Husband and wife battled each other. It was battle of life and death and Lucius taunted his wife as one of his spells just missed but was hot enough to burn her skin.

Hermione looked around the chaos one last time before running towards the front door. It had been blasted off its hinges and revealed the darkness inside. Candles had fallen over and a large fire was burning in the hall, eating away at whatever the flames could find. The Castle was filled with smoke and Hermione took a deep breath before running through the corridor, covering her mouth and nose as she did. Her heart hammered against her ribcage and the smoke burnt her throat and her eyes. Violent tears burnt down her skin as she ran.

From a room to her left a tall figure appeared and Hermione froze in her tracks. Through the black smoke she recognised him. It was Walden MacNair, the man who had invaded Malfoy Manor and took Narcissa's blood to resurrect Bellatrix. His wand was aimed at Hermione's chest and she saw the recognition dawn in his eyes. She cast a Stunning Spell but he deflected it easily, sending it flying it into the wildfire of flames behind her. There was only one way out and that was past MacNair. The corridor behind her was closed off by the flames.

"Order of the Phoenix eh?" MacNair taunted with a smirk and watched Hermione's face. They stood across each other, wands drawn. "I have seen your pretty face before, haven't I? That night at Malfoy Manor."

"Oh yes," Hermione hissed and flicked her wand. An array of spells shot in MacNair's direction, fired so quickly he barely had time to react. But his Shield Charm was strong and only the first of the jets hit him, causing a large cut to appear across his cheek. Blood trickled down his skin and he looked up, scowling, as he clutched his injured face. The blood seeped through his fingers.

"You bitch!" he shouted and cast another spell but Hermione was quicker and it missed her completely. She felt her heart beat faster and faster and the smoke was really beginning to irritate her throat. Through the constant flow of tears she could just about see her attacker's shape. Her eyes were red and puffy and she began coughing as behind her the flames closed in. She could feel the heat against her skin.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Hermione had cried the spell in all her might and the bright green flash of light crashed into Walden MacNair's body. His face was riddled by surprise and Hermione watched him slump down to the floor. When she looked back up she found Bellatrix standing not far behind him, panting. She supported her body by leaning against the wall and she was covered in black smudges. Her dress was torn and parts of her hair seemed to have been scorched away. There was a large, angry blister on her cheek but her ink black eyes fixed on Hermione.

"Aguamenti," Bellatrix said with a hoarse voice and the clear water from her wand instantly subdued the flames that had begun to eat away at Hermione's sleeve. She had not even noticed. Bellatrix grabbed hold of her wrist and together they began running down the smoke filled corridor. Their footsteps echoed off the walls as behind them the flames rapidly approached, destroying everything in their path. The heat became more and more intense and Hermione felt her body weaken with every step. Her lungs felt as if they were being burnt from the inside out and she desperately clutched on to Bellatrix's body as the raven haired woman made her way through the darkness.

Just when she thought she could not take another step the cold outside air filled her lungs and Hermione collapsed. Resting on the cold grass she stared up at the sky over her head. Clouds obscured the stars and the moon and thick black clouds of smoke circled up from what would soon be the ruin of MacNair Castle. Not as imposing as Hogwarts it still struck a chord as she sat up, resting on her elbows, and watched the flames eat away at the stone walls, bringing down the fortress. Broken glass lay everywhere around her.

"What were you thinking, you foolish girl?" Bellatrix said harshly and Hermione's eyes snapped up. She had almost forgotten Bellatrix was here. "You could have died in those flames!"

"I can die out here tonight too," Hermione answered with a constricted voice. She could barely speak. The smoke had filled her airways and her lungs and she felt as if the flames had invaded her body. It was strangely quiet and Hermione realised she and Bellatrix were sitting in what had once been a small courtyard, surrounded by a wall. She had not seen it before but now that she did she could imagine how beautiful it had once been. In the middle of the courtyard stood an ancient looking fountain, depicting a battle between Greek gods. Hermione scrambled to her feet and staggered towards the sculpture. No water was flowing from it but when she peered into the basin she found her own reflection staring back at her from the dark waters' surface. She dipped her hands into the cold liquid and splashed it into her face in a bid to eradicate some of the heat she was feeling. When she opened her eyes she found Bellatrix's reflection had appeared beside her own.

Just as she was about to speak there was a massive explosion and the impact made Hermione lose her balance. She tripped over her feet and fell into Bellatrix's outstretched arms. Behind them, part of the castle collapsed and Hermione's head whipped around in despair. Tears trickled down her cheeks and she fought to free herself from Bellatrix's arms but the raven haired woman did not let her go.

"Let me go!" Hermione cried and kicked Bellatrix against her legs. Bellatrix's fingernails dug deeply into Hermione's arms and she ignored Hermione as the girl hit her across the back of her hand with her wand. "Let me go! I need to get back there!"

"There is nothing you can do! If anybody was inside that part of the building, they are dead!" Bellatrix said. The strength of her arms was surprising and Hermione's body went limp. She sighed and turned to the younger brunette to face her. "The Dark Lord needs Potter, Hermione. We will get him, no matter what sacrifices he has to make. There is nothing you or anybody else can do to stop this. It is destiny and it _has _to happen!"

Hermione swallowed and arched an eyebrow, or whatever was left of it. "But where do you and I fit into all of this? The Dark Lord has Harry's family."

"Kidnap his family, kidnap his friend," Bellatrix lisped and ran her fingers across Hermione's cheek. The touch was nothing short of demeaning. "Kill the other friend." Hermione gasped at the mention of Ron's death. "You know, everything to make him so angry he would come here. The boy never was really good at seeing the bigger picture. Such a simple plan, such great consequences."

"All of this to get to Harry?" Hermione gestured at the burning building behind them. She heard desperate voices. Someone shouted, another cried but she could not determine who it was. The smoke was thick as it found its way up into the grey sky. Her hazel eyes narrowed and she did not flinch as Bellatrix's fingernail scratched across her skin. "All of _me?"_

"Oh no, you're just a useful enjoyment on the side," Bellatrix's red lips curled up into a smile and her hand slipped up to brush a strand of hair out of Hermione's eyes. Compared to the scratch she left behind on Hermione's cheek, this gesture was kind and tender. "I quite enjoy your company. For a mudblood you are really quite entertaining."

An unexpected cold wind picked up and Bellatrix and Hermione both spun around to witness the flames instantly dying. All that remained were the smouldering walls of whatever was left of MacNair Castle. Thicker clouds packed together over their heads and the rain began to fall. Thick drops fell down onto them and within seconds they were drenched. It was as if nature had suddenly changed. Hermione looked at Bellatrix, who seemed to enjoy the rain as it poured down on her and tilted her head back.

"It's him, isn't it?" she questioned and Bellatrix merely cackled in approval. "The Dark Lord is coming?"

Bellatrix's ink black eyes met Hermione's. "He is already here."

Hermione didn't hesitate and spun around. There was an opening in the wall to her left and by the time Bellatrix had chased after her, mud splashing up her dress, Hermione had disappeared around the corner. The young brunette ran until she reached the other side of the Castle and found the remaining members of the Order standing together. Motionless bodies lay scattered around the grounds, most of them bleeding but the rain had begun to wash most of the blood away. Soon their faces would just be pale, without a single trace of blood. They would look perfect. Perfect for death. When Hermione reached her friends she found Minerva and the older woman wrapped her safely into her arms, pressing Hermione securely against her body. Resting her head against Minerva's chest Hermione felt the tears escape from behind her eyes and she bit down on her lip.

"He's coming," she whispered. "He's coming."

"Bellatrix."

Hermione's head whipped up when she heard Andromeda mutter her sister's name. Andromeda broke away from the crowd and strode across the grass in the direction of the dark haired witch. Hermione watched Bellatrix. The dark ringlets stuck to her forehead and she was drenched. Drops of rain trickled down her face like tears before seeping into her dress. She looked pale and tired and her ink black eyes were fixed on Hermione. And it was only Hermione who saw the sadness. Bellatrix looked forlorn, alone, and before Andromeda could reach her she had turned on the spot and disappeared. Bellatrix had said goodbye.

"Take cover!"

It was Harry who shouted and the members of the Order of the Phoenix all spun around. From the clouds a dark shape appeared. It was like black mist that reached the ground but they all knew better. Hermione watched in horror as the black mist began to take the form of a man, or whatever was left of him. Lord Voldemort slowly appeared in front of them, dressed in nothing else but his silk black robes and bare foot, as before. He stood taller than Hermione remembered and with the weak sunlight climbing over the horizon in the distance he looked paler than before. His thin red eyes flickered with hatred and automatically people formed a circle in an attempt to protect each other. Andromeda stumbled back to the group and reached Narcissa, who wrapped a protective arm around her sister's waist. Hermione felt Minerva grab a tight hold of her.

"Harry Potter," spoke Voldemort and his tongue protruded from his mouth in between words. Hermione's gaze dropped to Voldemort's hand and wondered from where he had taken his wand. The wand he had been using during the Battle had been destroyed. "We meet again."

Harry, who stood in front of the others, took another step in his direction but had to pay for that indiscretion as an invisible spell hit him in the chest and sent him backwards. He showed no fear. Instead he lifted up his chin in arrogance and stared at Voldemort through his glasses. "And you will die again, Tom!"

"CRUCIO!"

Voldemort's high pitched voice sent a shiver down Hermione's face and she watched in a mixture of horror and revulsion as Harry's body crashed to the floor. His limps jerked involuntarily and she could see the pain in his eyes, yet he did not give a single whimper. He did not even groan when his stomach emptied itself into the grass beside him and even when he sat on all fours, heaving, he showed little discomfort. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead but Harry did not give in. He had dealt with the Cruciatus Curse before.

"I see you haven't changed your ways, Tom," Harry said and staggered back to his feet. He held his wand and cast a silent spell in Voldemort's direction. The dark wizard easily deflected and he and Harry began to circle each other. For a moment Hermione felt herself slip back in time, back to Hogwarts, where Harry and Voldemort had faced each other before. It felt like this all over again but this time Harry was older, wiser perhaps. But he wasn't stronger. "Release my aunt and uncle and then you and I can fight as equals. You wanted me to come here. Well, here I am."

"We shall trade, Harry Potter," spoke Voldemort and if he had been able to smile, Hermione guessed this was the moment he would have. His snake like features had changed nothing and still left her as uncomfortable as before. "We shall trade your life for that of your family."

Harry seemed to think for a moment but behind him Kingsley broke away from the crowd. Harry spun around when he heard one of the others approach and raised his wand, ready to defend Kingsley if he had to. But the Minister of Magic merely walked up to Harry and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You can't do this, Harry."

"Oh hear them speak in your defence, Potter. How they fear a world without you. How many more must come to your aide and how many more must die for you? Are you going to stand by and watch so many more of your friends die?" spoke Voldemort and Harry's green eyes snapped back in his direction. The darkest wizard of all time almost seemed amused and not in the slightest bothered by the fact that his faithful Death Eaters lay at his feet. Behind Kingsley and Harry Narcissa stirred but Andromeda kept her sister firmly in place. Hermione could see Draco shake with anger.

"No," Harry said firmly and looked at Kingsley before facing the rest of the group. They were his friends, his family. The only people in the world he had ever dared to trust. And he had watched too many of them die for him. "I cannot let you die for me. Not anymore."

"Harry, NO!" cried Minerva and Hermione was struck by the horrible pain in her voice.

"This time there is no choice," said Harry and he lowered his wand. Slowly he walked in Voldemort's direction. Every step was a little slower than the one before. His eyes focused on the destroyed building behind Voldemort and he looked up, with a broken sense of pride. He let his wand slip from his fingers and it landed in the mud. The rain unexpectedly stopped and in the distance the first rays of sunshine appeared. "Release my family and I will take their place."

Voldemort's laugh was erratic and deranged and Hermione watched with pain in her heart how magical restrains appeared around Harry's body, locking him in what could only be described as a cage. With a small gesture from his hand, the wind picked back up. It pulled at the barren trees, rushed over the lump grass and picked up fallen leave s and broken twigs in its path. Hermione clung on to Minerva and felt the older woman's arms around her. The wind grew stronger, turning into a small tornado. The black cloud approached the remains of the castle and swallowed it up. For a few seconds the building disappeared from their sight and when the cloud dissolved all that remained was an empty lot.

And there, several feet apart and shivering in fear, sat Vernon and Petunia Dudley. Voldemort and Harry were gone.

Kingsley and Minerva rushed towards the trembling Muggles and safely wrapped them up in cloaks and heated their clothes with their wands. Neither of them spoke but Hermione watches as they slowly staggered to their feet and were supported back in the direction of the other Order members. Narcissa had walked away from Andromeda and reached Hermione. She put a hand on her shoulder and Hermione looked up. Tears glistened in Narcissa's eyes.

"We must get him back. If Harry dies, all hope dies too."

Hermione swallowed hard. "I think it just did."


	15. Nothing Is Forever

**Chapter 15**

It felt wrong to leave, knowing Harry was not with them. Hermione had been the last one to abandon MacNair Castle. For almost an hour she stood staring at the spot where Voldemort and Harry had disappeared as the smoke from the ruin circled up into the orange and red sky. She did not dare think about where he was or what was happening. The Ministry of Magic had taken the surviving Death Eaters prisoner and she had overheard Kingsley say they would be locked up at the Ministry, as Azkaban was no longer under their control. That was nearly an hour ago. Hermione had stayed behind long enough to watch the sun come up in the distance. But its rays did not feel warming at all. She felt cold and abandoned and just before she left for the Burrow she glanced at the place where she had seen Bellatrix last. A sense of loneliness crept up on her as she Dissaparated and left behind the ruins of MacNair Castle.

When she reappeared outside the Burrow she found Molly Weasley standing in the door way, looking out for her. Relief filled the older woman's face when she saw Hermione appear. Hermione rushed towards her and wrapped her arms around the woman she had come to see as a mother throughout the years. Even though she and Ron had not spoken much for the past six years, Molly Weasley was still the closest thing to a mother she had. Resting her head on Molly's shoulder felt safe and Hermione felt the tears begin to trickle down her cheeks.

"We'll get him back, dear," Molly reassured her and she patted Hermione on her back in a comforting way. Hermione was struck by how Molly attempted to comfort her while she had only just lost her son. Hermione looked up; her eyes still wet, and tried to smile. Molly smiled too, tears glistening in her eyes. She wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders and guided her into the house. "Let's get you a spot of breakfast, dear."

"Where is everybody?" Hermione asked when she found the kitchen and dining room empty apart from herself and Molly. She had expected it to be crowded but the silence struck her. Molly turned away from the stove and sighed.

"Kingsley and Minerva are sorting out Harry's poor aunt and uncle. They're taking them back to Little Whinging in Surrey, I think. That poor woman completely lost it when they got here," Molly said and Hermione suspected that Petunia Dursley could no longer cope with being exposed to magic. Their lives had been torn upside down, yet again. Judging from Molly Weasley's reaction Hermione guessed the Dursley's had managed to refrain from their usual rudeness. She watched curiously how Molly managed to fry several eggs at the same time without burning anything.

"Andromeda and Narcissa have gone to stay at Andromeda's cottage in Sussex and Bill and Fleur have gone home. Charlie is over at the Lovegoods. Apparently Luna came home today and he is talking to them about joining the Order. You know what Xenophillius is like. Draco has gone with his mother and aunt but..." Molly's voice trailed off and she gazed out of the window. Hermione knew what she was going to say. "They'll all be back later for the funeral. George has gone to check up on Angelina and Arthur is upstairs looking after Ginny. She is quite worried and the baby is distressed. I have sent up some calming tea. Hopefully she can get some sleep then."

Hermione did her best to sound collected and her hazel eyes met the brown orbs of Molly. "How are you, Mrs Weasley?"

The Weasley matriarch seemed to think about that question for a moment before putting down the wooden spoon and looked at Hermione. "I'm tired, Hermione. I am tired of the constant fear. I am tired of hoping the world will change. I have already buried one son and today I am burying another." Tears constricted her voice. "Too many lives have been ruined. Nothing ever changes."

Hermione disagreed with those last words. Everything had changed. Just as she was about to speak she discovered the two figures appearing outside the window. Minerva and Kingsley strode towards the house, looking tired and worn out. Hermione rushed to open the front door and felt a sense of relief to see the Minister of Magic and the Headmistress of Hogwarts step into the kitchen. Minerva sent her an encouraging smile but Hermione knew she was thinking the same thing as she was. Where was Harry? Why had Voldemort not just killed him? But there was one more thing Hermione wanted to know. Where was Bellatrix?

"Did they settle in all right?" Molly asked, talking about the Dursley's and Minerva nodded.

"We decided to modify their memories for their own sake. I know they are familiar with magic but it seemed for the best that they did not remember this ordeal," Minerva answered. "By the time we had done that, they were quite happy to see the back of us. I don't think I have ever had the misfortune of meeting people who were so rude and so ignorant"

"Sounds like they're back to normal," Hermione said sarcastically and Minerva glanced at her before nodding. Now that the four people stood in the kitchen there was no way they could deny the elephant in the room. Hermione bit down on her lip and swallowed hard. "What are we going to do now? How are we going to find Harry?" She paused. "Why didn't Voldemort just kill him?"

"Nothing is to say he won't," Kingsley said and Molly suddenly scurried to find something in the pantry. Hermione suspected she did not want to hear the things they were about to say. "My guess is he is keeping him prisoner in Azkaban, surrounded by Death Eaters and Dementors. They will have a field day with him. If Harry isn't dead yet he soon will be. By now the news will have reached the Prophet. I have seen the front page. The Boy Who Lived has been taken prisoner by the Dark Lord. Harry was all the hope we had left. Now there is nothing."

"I don't understand," Hermione said and rubbed her forehead in confusion. "He said he wanted Harry. Leaving him alive only increases the risk of Harry beating him."

"I suspect the Dark Lord is seeking a spectacle," Kingsley said slowly and Hermione suddenly had a horrifying image of Harry being murdered in front of the whole nation. Her stomach turned and she averted her eyes. "Find a prominent place to kill him, leave the whole world defenceless. He lost a lot of his faithful Death Eaters last night. Only Lucius Malfoy, Rodolphus Lestrange, Amicus Carrow and Bellatrix Lestrange escaped."

The mention of Bellatrix made Hermione's heart flutter unexpectedly and a blush spread across her cheeks. She could not help the emotions as they rushed through her veins and crept into her heart. She peered at Kingsley through her eyelashes. "Bellatrix abandoned him."

"That's what Andromeda said," Minerva agreed and Hermione's eyes snapped in the other witch's direction. She had forgotten Andromeda had approached Bellatrix seconds before she faded in the night. "She said she appeared from the rain, almost like a ghost, and watched for a few moments and then disappeared. According to Andromeda it was almost as if Bellatrix was not siding with the Dark Lord at all."

Kingsley looked at Hermione. "What was she like? Back at the Castle after she kidnapped you?"

Hermione's throat became dry and she shook her head. The Bellatrix she had seen was nothing like the monster the others knew. She fidgeted with her hands and remembered how they had kissed and touched. She could still feel her, taste her. And she saw her, emerging from the smoke. Bellatrix had saved her. If she had not taken her to that exit she would have perished in the flames. A frown appeared on her face and she shook her head. "I don't know."

"What do you mean?" Minerva asked sharply.

Hermione's eyes snapped up and there was anger in her voice. She did not appreciate the way Minerva spoke to her. "I mean that I don't know. She never once summoned the Dark Lord but she did say that he wanted Harry." She paused and shook her head. The times she had shared with Bellatrix had never been about Voldemort. It had been about forbidden passion and guilty pleasures. Hermione felt herself get angry and she clenched her fists. She wanted to get away but there was nowhere to go. Ron's funeral was today. It had only been a day but nobody wanted to wait. The silent and unspoken fear that more death would soon follow lingered in the house and they could all feel it. "I'm sorry, I can't help you."

"If he is keeping Harry in Azkaban, is there a chance we can go in and free him?" Minerva suggested but Kingsley shook his head. Hermione knew why.

"You have never been in Azkaban, have you? It was not designed to free people, Minerva. Even now that it is under control by the Death Eaters there is no way in or out," Kingsley said slowly.

~()~

There was something ironic about rain during funerals. Hermione had gotten used to it by now and she listened to the monotone sound of the raindrops falling on her umbrella. It had rained the day she buried her parents, in the middle of June. It had rained when they had buried Remus, Tonks and Fred. It was as if the world shed its silent tears over the loss of yet another innocent soul. The sky was grey and the trees and bushes of the graveyard had been stripped from their leaves. On the way to the freshly dug grave they had passed the final resting places of their friends. Fresh flowers had been laid down in their memory.

The casket was made out of simple wood and they had all placed a white rose on top. Hermione stood with one hand in her pocket whilst the other clutched her umbrella. She stared at the casket and tried not to imagine Ron lying in it, on his back with his hands neatly folded. She tried not to think about how, over time, his body would rot and become one with the soil. Only the black marble headstone would be the everlasting reminder of how he had died. Hermione's eyes drifted across the faces of the people standing around the grave and the absence of Harry struck her hard. She didn't know whether there was anything worse than him missing his best friends' funeral.

She was the first to turn away and make her way back along the windy path leading through the graves She left behind the crowd who still said their goodbyes. She could not be here. She lowered her umbrella and tilted her head back and let the cold water fall down onto her face. It was comforting and soothing and as she came around the corner, not far from the metal gates, she found someone was watching her from a distance.

Black raven hair stuck to the woman's face and raindrops trickled down her cheeks like tears.

~()~

His cell was nothing more than a cave, carved into the stone walls of Azkaban. The door was made out of metal, with bars through which the guards shoved his tray of food and drink. There was mould on the bread and the water tasted as if it had been left to stand for a week. It barely quenched his thirst and the mouldy bread and sour butter did nothing to still his hunger. His clothes stuck to his skin and a layer of dirt had already caked onto his skin. It had only been a day; a long day without daylight and surrounded by the desperate cries and screams from the other prisoners. Their wails had only increased when the guards told them Harry Potter had been arrested. They had been screams of despair and broken hope and now Harry sat with his back against the wall, on top of the stained mattress he called his bed, his knees pulled up to his chest. He had failed and now the rest of the world would pay the price. He could hear the violent waves outside crash against the rocks even though he could not see them. The world as they had known it was no more. It had fallen into a state of decay, much like six years ago. And there was nothing he, the Boy Who Lived, could do about it.

Was this it? Was this how it all ended? Had he been wrong, six years ago, when he watched Voldemort die at his feet? Had the Prophecy not been intended for him? _Neither can live whilst the other survives. _Had it meant that their battle was never over? Or had the wrong one been victorious? Harry rested his head back and sighed. He had plenty of time to think. In the distance he could hear the rattling of chains and someone begged and pleaded to be spared. The horrors that took place between these walls were indescribable. Outside his door a dark shadow flew by and eventually silence followed. And it was the silence that was the most haunting of all because in the silence he could hear his own thoughts.

Harry Potter had become a prisoner inside himself.

~()~

"You shouldn't be here."

Hermione nervously glanced over her shoulder to make sure nobody else was on their way back. She didn't want to think about their reaction if they found the witch they held responsible for Ron's death hanging around the cemetery. Bellatrix leant against a large grave angel, her eyes fixed on Hermione. When the brunette looked back at her she smiled and shrugged. "Try and stop me"

"Listen, this has gotten completely out of hand," Hermione said and tried hard to hold on to whatever little bit of strength she still had. She forced herself to meet Bellatrix's dark eyes and the words left her mouth with a painful hesitation. "You should leave, Bellatrix."

"Really?" Bellatrix asked and pushed herself away from the stone angel and strode across towards Hermione. She carelessly kicked over a pot of neatly arranged flowers on one of the graves but paid no attention. Upon reaching Hermione she let her hand kindly slip up to the brunette's cheek. Lust flickered in her eyes and she cocked her head. A curious smirk played on her lips. Hermione shivered under her touch as Bellatrix came closer, brushing her lips against Hermione's. "Is that really what you want?"

"Y-yes," Hermione murmured before Bellatrix's lips crashed down onto her own, engaging her in a passionate kiss. Pulling the young brunette into her arms, Bellatrix's tongue found its way into Hermione's mouth. There it was greeted by Hermione's, hesitantly at first but it quickly grew more intense. Hermione's hands slipped into the raven manes, letting the soft ringlets run through her fingers. Bellatrix's lips were bruising and rough against her own and when they broke apart they were panting and Hermione, her hands still entwined in Bellatrix's hair, rested her forehead against Bellatrix's.

"This is insane," Hermione whispered and felt Bellatrix's fingers creep up the back of her neck. "You are insane!"

"I shall take that as a compliment," Bellatrix said with a grin and cocked her head. "What is it, my little pet? Can't you cope with the lies anymore? Is this double life not meant for you?" Slender fingers grasped hold of brown curls, pulling Hermione's head backwards. She exposed the side of her neck and licked her lips in longing. Hermione shivered. "It was you who brought Potter to the Dark Lord, remember? You ran into a burning Castle instead of helping your friend."

"No," Hermione breathed but she knew Bellatrix was right. She had been unable to think straight for months, years. Every day, every hour, her brain had been poisoned by images of the raven haired witch. She had been part of her dreams, her life, her fantasies for all these years. And now, knowing she was alive, she had become part of _her._ Bellatrix had crept under her skin and into her heart. Narcissa had been right. Bellatrix had poisoned her. She could not live or breath a single day without longing for her, as sick as it made her. The cries of her heart conflicted with the reasoning of her brain. Only a few hundred yards away stood a group of people that knew her, trusted her. They had no idea about the lies. Ron had known, somehow. He had seen how her eyes lit up whenever someone mentioned Bellatrix's name. He had guessed. And now he was dead.

"Potter will die a most painful death and there is nothing you can do," Bellatrix said sharply "Remember that."

The sound of approaching footsteps made the pair of them look up. People had started to leave Ron's grave. Voices came nearer and Hermione glanced over her shoulder. She recognised Andromeda's voice. She was talking to someone but she couldn't see them yet. Bellatrix's hands slipped away from her and before Hermione could say anything she had disappeared behind the stone angel and vanished into the rain.

"Hermione?" called Andromeda and Hermione turned around. Andromeda, Draco and Narcissa had appeared from around the corner and the three of them stared at her in confusion. Andromeda frowned as she watched Hermione standing by a grave of someone none of them knew. Her eye fell on the broken plant pot. "I thought you had left some time ago. What are you still doing here?"

"Thinking," Hermione answered sadly and looked around. Tears swam in her eyes. The graveyard was quiet and abandoned and the rain had created a haunting atmosphere. They were surrounded by gravestones, bare trees and dead flowers. Something about the location triggered the melancholy feeling. She glanced at the stone angel behind her. "There doesn't seem to be a better place for it, right?"

"I suppose not," Andromeda said slowly. She appeared unsure whether to believe Hermione's answer. Beside her, Narcissa seemed wary. "Are you coming back with us?"

"No," Hermione answered shortly and a lonely tear found its way down her cheek. She briskly brushed it away and her gaze fixed on the destroyed flowers at her feet. She couldn't stay here. She just had to leave. "No, I think it is best if I go home. I- I'd rather be alone."

She turned away from Narcissa, Andromeda and Draco and began making her way back to the main entrance of the cemetery. The gates were still open and she walked through them, back into the little village of Otterly St. Catchpole. It was quiet today. Most people had chosen to stay inside with the bad weather. Hermione looked around and walked down along Church Road to the High Street. Most of the shops were open but it wasn't very busy with shoppers. She walked past the butchers, the florist, the small corner shop that sold bread and milk and the post office. Muggle newspapers reported more doom and gloom with all the front pages reporting on a big train crash in Oxfordshire and a series of unexplained deaths in London.

From the High Street she reached Narrow Lane, a small road that led to a Muggle estate of new houses. Hermione kept walking, in the pouring rain. She wasn't sure why she kept walking instead of just going home. She wandered along the Devon Road, the next main road that crossed the village High Street, and ignored a car that sped past. Her head hung in what could be considered shame and she stared at her boots. The world seemed emptier without Harry. It was as if had changed everything. But what had changed most of all was Hermione herself. Back at the Burrow she had told herself she would move on from Bellatrix. Or try at least. But there was nothing she could do. Her heart had lost itself years ago.

She had gotten so used to living with Bellatrix in her life. But there was a difference between the memory and Bellatrix being alive. She could live with the memories, the haunting images in her head. But the reality was different. She longed for it to be endless. As sick and dangerous as it was, she could not stop the cravings of her heart. There was a saying that people do not choose who they fall in love with. Was this it? Had she fallen in love and was there truly noting she could do?

Hermione stepped into a deep puddle and tears trickled down her cheeks. She felt as if she was being torn up inside. Love was supposed to make a person feel better; bring a smile to their faces. It was not supposed to draw tears from their eyes or leave the lying awake at night, staring into the darkness. She had watched people fall in love, people like Ginny and Harry. She had once hoped her life would be like that; predictable perhaps but easy. She had expected to find someone, someone other than Ron, and settle down. She had never expected to find Bellatrix, lingering in the depths of her mind, and she had never dared to even guess that it would be her she longed for. All the wishes and expectations she had once held were long gone. Life like that was impossible.

Hermione had reached the local primary school and looked at the playground. It was abandoned. She glanced around to make sure she was alone and turned on the spot.

~()~

Her apartment was empty. Hermione stripped off from her wet clothes and carried them in a pile to the bathroom. There she turned on the shower and stepped under the hot flow of water. She washed her hair and used some of her vanilla scented shower gel. Her fingers caressed the bruises on her wrists and arms. There were bite marks on her stomach and shoulder and she could feel the sharp stinging pain on her back where the water made contact with the scratches left behind by Bellatrix. After she stepped out of the shower she dried herself off with one of her fluffy towels, careful not to open the cuts on her back so they would start bleeding again. She changed into a pair of jogging trousers and tank top and let her hair fall down her shoulders. She then settled down on the sofa and picked up one of her favourite books, Jane Eyre. But she could not find the concentration and put the book back down, having read only a few pages. In frustration she reached for the remote and turned on the TV. She hardly ever watched it. Usually she was too busy, coming back from work late and having to leave early, and she preferred to spend her time reading.

Her gaze drifted off to the window and she thought about what had happened at the cemetery today. Bellatrix should not have been there. Deep inside Hermione resented her for having appeared there. A part of her hated her for even being alive, for ruining everything she held most dear. She watched her own life crumble to pieces in her hands. The more she stared at the rain covered glass, the clearer the image of Bellatrix's face became and Hermione sighed in desperation. Everything she knew had fallen apart.

~()~

The metallic sound of a bolt being moved made him look up. His head had been resting on his arms but he knew better than to sleep. It was in the false safety of sleep the real demons lingered. He was tired and his body ached. The lack of food and water had already left him feeling weakened and had been a mere day. He squinted against the light coming from outside his cell. A tall, broad shouldered figure stood in the open door, looking down at him.

"Get up," he barked menacingly and Harry staggered to his feet. Feeling weakened and tired he approached the door and the sound of metal echoed off the walls as magical chains wound themselves around his wrists and his ankles. He was like a caged animal, chained down like a beast. Every step suddenly had a haunting echo and he meekly followed the guard, who had most of his face covered by a black hood. He was powerless. His wand had been taken from him when he arrived here and he had watched in pain as it was snapped in two. The fiery red phoenix feather core had been left bare and unprotected and it was as if someone had ripped out his heart and broke it before his eyes.

He walked past cell door after cell door, trying not to hear the whimpering voices on the other side. They all knew he was here. They knew him. He had no idea who they were. Poor unfortunate souls who had opposed the Dark Lord at some time during their lives, left to suffer a fate worse than death. Harry had begun to understand how Sirius had nearly lost his mind in here, after twelve years, and how a woman like Bellatrix Lestrange had completely lost hers, locked up in this gruesome hellhole.

They came to a halt at the end of the corridor and the guard opened the door, revealing the outside word. Harry found himself surprised and shocked that the fresh air literally lay at the end of the hall, only several feet away from his cell and his lungs eagerly expanded, sucking in the cool fresh air. But the safety was false and the guard stepped aside, revealing what awaited him.

Voldemort stood in front him, tall and proud. There was something imposing about him and Harry felt a sense of fear creep up on him. Voldemort's red eyes were fixed on Harry's face and his snake like features were illuminated by the silver moonlight. There was something haunting about him. His tongue slipped out of his mouth and he twirled his wand through his fingers.

"Harry Potter," he said and Harry looked up with all the strength and energy he could muster. Voldemort's eyes pierced into his. "Are you prepared to die?"


	16. Blood On The Horizon

**A/N: **Well, finally there's another update for this story. We are only a few days away from the Deathly Hallows 2 premiere and I am so very excited. I must apologise to all of you for how long it took to update. My laptop crashed after I decided to take part in July's NaNoWriMo. I lost everything so I have given up. Instead I am now back at working at this fanfic and I hope this chapter will bring many of you back to this story. I hope to post at least one more update before Deathly Hallows 2 premieres here on Thursday night/Friday morning (I am going to the midnight screening). There is a lot of Narcissa in this story as, since the world premiere in London, I am ever so slightly obsessed with Helen McCrory. The Boy Who Lived? Who's that again? ~ Cissy

* * *

**Chapter 16**

Trafalgar Square was hauntingly empty. Perhaps best known as one of London's biggest tourist attractions, the square lay abandoned in the late afternoon sun. Nelson's Column stood proud and tall against the orange and red sky, surrounded by the four strong lions. The picture would have been almost beautiful were it not for the countless police cars that blocked the streets leading up to the square and the road connecting it to Leicester Square. Dozens of police officers, dressed in riot gear, had just completed a search and were returning to their cars. The bomb scare that had cleared the square three hours earlier had been proven false. Hundreds of tourists had been sent away to watch from a safe distance, many of them were still holding their cameras and took pictures of the scenes as they unfolded. The water from the fountains still spouted high up into the air before raining down into the basin. Throughout the madness of the bomb search, it had been a comforting, almost soothing sound.

A radio crackled and one of the police officers' voices spoke to all his colleagues. "We're clear to return the Square. I repeat we are…." His voice trailed off when there was a bright flash of light. "What the hell…."

Suddenly the air was full of frightened cries. People were pointing at the sky where sun had begun to set behind the horizon. Soon darkness would fall. Dark clouds rapidly began to gather and the rumbling sound of thunder announced the arrival of a storm. The police officers ran back towards the square, like an army of ants, and stared up to the sky as around them people began to hurry off in different directions. There weren't many places where they could go and a woman's high pitched scream made many of them freeze. Somewhere in the middle of a crowd of frightened tourists a man had slumped to the floor. His eyes were wide open and his camera had slipped from his fingers. There was no blood, there had been no gunshot but nevertheless the man was dead. Someone reached down and attempted to pick him up and drag him away. Across the square another body slumped down to the ground.

The panic was instant and people began running for cover, shielding their faces with their coats, jumpers and rug sacks. Sirens began wailing and more and more police cars seemed to emerge from the blocked off roads, followed by ambulances and fire engines. Within minutes the square was full of emergency services wearing gas masks and they attempted to contain the crowd. The whispers about a biological terrorist attack spread quickly. Fear was written across everybody's faces, even those hidden behind gas masks.

The explosion was unexpected and the large pieces stone and metal rained down upon all who were attempting to contain the crowd. Screams and cries of pain rose up as police officers, paramedics and fire fighters fell down to the ground. Some of them were bleeding from their heads where the large pieces of stone had landed on top of them. A few lay trapped underneath even larger pieces, unable to move. Desperate finger clawed around and soft, weakened voices were pleading and begging for help. Those who had not yet run away stared up to find Nelson's Column destroyed. Nelson himself lay in pieces, scattered around the square. The fountain had been ruined and water flooded into the already chaotic scene. Those who were trapped under the large pieces of rubble were sure to drown. London was under attack and tonight many who were present at Trafalgar Square would die.

~()~

Hermione stared at the images on her TV screen in disbelief. The chaos in London was all over the news and every channel had at least one reporter, if not more, stationed near Trafalgar Square. So far fifteen had been reported dead, many more were injured and the emergency services were doing everything they could to save those trapped under the rubble or otherwise injured. The news was calling it a terrorist attack. Hermione felt cold inside and the images of people covered in blood and dust bore a sickening resemblance to the events of the 7th of July bombings years earlier. But unlike the people at the scene Hermione knew exactly what she was looking at. This was no terrorist attack. Her heart was pounding in her chest and adrenaline rushed through her veins. She grabbed her wand from the coffee table, slipped it in her pocket and then she put on her cloak. She had been waiting for a sign and this was it. She rushed out of her apartment, down the flight of stairs and into the streets. In the distance she could hear the wailing sirens and shiver crept down her spine. The street was abandoned and she turned on the spot. With a faint pop she Dissaparated.

She reappeared outside the Burrow and rushed across the grounds, through the protective barriers and her fists hammered against the wood until somebody opened the door. When the door swung open and revealed Kingsley Shacklebolt, Hermione felt her breath choke in the back of her throat and rushed into the kitchen. There she found the small television the Weasley's owned, courtesy of Arthur's endless obsession with Muggle items and Harry's ability to actually make it work. It only had five channels but it was all she needed. The small screen displayed the scenes unfolding in London live and Hermione looked at Kingsley.

"It's him!" she breathed whilst pointing at the chaos. Molly and Arthur had appeared from the dining room, followed by George and Angelina and they all stood around watching the television. "It's Voldemort! Kingsley said he wanted a spectacle. The eyes of the whole world are on London!"

"The eyes of the Muggle world," Kingsley said slowly but Hermione shook her head.

"By now Voldemort doesn't care about Muggles or Wizards," she said with a hint of anger in her voice. "The last time Death Eaters killed Muggles for sport. They still are now. Just the other day they found a family of six, dead in their beds and a Dark Mark hovering over their house. He wants the world to know who he is, what he is, and what he can do. The boundaries between the Muggle world and the magical world have long since been crossed."

Kingsley glanced at Arthur. There was a dark look in his eyes. A look Hermione had only seen a few times before. "Get the others. We need to get to London. I am going back to the Ministry and get every witch and wizard I can find to join us…" He paused and looked at the devastation on the television screen. His voice was even deeper and lower than usual and there was a menacing undertone in his words. "It's going to end today."

Kingsley walked out of the Burrow and with a faint pop he Dissaparated. Arthur had shot off into the living room and Hermione knew he was contacting the other members of the order via the Floo Network. Beside her, George hugged Angelina and Hermione watched as the lovers kissed each other goodbye and Angelina went upstairs to look after Ginny. A few minutes past before the distinct sound of roaring flames betrayed the arrival of the first Order members. Narcissa, Andromeda and Draco were the first to walk into the kitchen and the trio looked at the television in puzzled confusion. They were soon joined by Minerva and Xenophillius Lovegood. The latter was, to Hermione's surprise, accompanied by his daughter and the blonde witch flung her arms around Hermione's neck and hugged her. Hermione returned the greeting and took in the odd scent of Luna's hair. A little smile broke through on her face when she met Luna's blue eyes. Even in these dark times Luna still seemed her bright and optimistic self.

"You look dreadful, Hermione," she said rather matter of fact and Hermione was instantly reminded of Luna's uncanny ability to always observe and speak the truth and be totally oblivious about it. She was well aware she did not look her best, with dark rings around her eyes, a pale expression and messy hair.

"Thank you," Hermione answered with a smile. Luna was dressed in an orange top and purple trousers. It was a combination no other person would ever dare to wear apart from the blonde. Hermione observed the radish earrings and smiled as the memory of her first encounter with them resurfaced. Some things never changed. "You look well."

Within fifteen minutes the kitchen was full of people and Hermione looked around. She could feel the anticipation and when her eyes met Narcissa's she registered the fear in the other woman's eyes. She swallowed hard and her throat had become strangely dry. Somehow all eyes were fixed on her and she suddenly realised they were relying on her; they wanted her to tell them what they were to do next. With Harry gone she was their leader now and Hermione felt her heart sink in her chest as she horrible realisation that she was about to lead them into death set in. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and then looked up, into the faces of her friends and loved ones.

"We need to get to London," she spoke with a loud and clear voice. "The attack that took place in Trafalgar Square has nothing to do with terrorists. It is Voldemort and it is his way of luring us to him. Kingsley said he suspects he wants an audience when he kills Harry. Well, he's got it." She paused and let her words sink in. "We have to stop him."

"What do we do when we get there?" Andromeda asked from the back of the crowd and Hermione's eyes found her. She had bound her dark hair back in a loose ponytail and for the first time she looked so much less like Bellatrix that it left Hermione feeling saddened. Hermione took a deep breath.

"I wish I had an answer for you, Andy," she answered truthfully and looked around. "I do not stand here before you claiming to have any more knowledge than any of you. I don't know what happens when we leave here. All I know is that if we want to save Harry we have to do it tonight. There is no other way. There is nothing else."

Draco stepped forward and drew his wand. Hermione saw something in his eyes she had only seen once before, in the eyes of another. In this very moment he looked so much like his mother that it struck her heart. Draco's eyes found Hermione's and there was encouragement in his voice. "Then what are we waiting for?"

~()~

London was still in a state of chaos when the Order members lead by Hermione arrived in a small alleyway just around the corner from Trafalgar Square. The air was full sirens and the smell of fear and Hermione felt her heartbeat quicken as she walked out onto the square, followed by the others. Nobody spoke but she knew what they were feeling. They were surrounded by rubble, debris and people being treated on the scene by emergency services. She paid no attention to them. Instead she walked briskly into the direction of what was left of the fountain. Water was still pouring onto the square and within seconds her boots and jeans were drenched. When she looked over her shoulder she found Narcissa right behind her and their eyes met.

"I know what you did," spoke the older woman softly so only she and Hermione could hear. They were standing knee deep in the cold water. Narcissa waded towards the brunette and when she reached her she forced her to look at her. "I know what you did, Hermione. Back at the Burrow." She paused. "You attempted to modify my memory."

Hermione swallowed hard. "I…."

"If you have spent as much time with Bellatrix and Lucius as I have, you learn to fight any spell," Narcissa said slowly, ignoring Hermione's attempt to speak. "Ever since I was a child, Bellatrix taught me to close my mind. My sister had her uses when we were younger. Not a single spell ever successfully broke through those barriers she taught me to create." Dark eyes pierced into Hermione's hazel brown. "Including yours."

Hermione wanted to answer but the words died on her lips when a loud rumbling sound rose up. Like a wave it came crashing down over them and the sound grew so loud Hermione found herself covering her ears in desperation. The wind picked up, pulling violently at her hair. It drew tears from her eyes and they trickled down her cheek as she fought to remain on her feet. She felt Narcissa's arms slip around her waist as the wind grew even stronger. The water in which they were standing was blown across the square. People cried and screamed in fear. Hermione wanted to see whether the others were all right but she could not turn around to look at them. The shapes on the water surface grew bigger and over their heads black clouds gathered.

"It's him!" called Kingsley's booming voice and Hermione saw men and women appear to her left and right. They waded through the water, much like she and Narcissa had done. Aurors and other Ministry workers, all yielding their wands, approached the ruins of the fountain, led by Kingsley Shacklebolt. He walked ahead of them, proud and tall. An array of spells were shot in various directions, including the sky, and the water that remained in the basin of the fountain spat up as if struck by bullets and rained down on all of those present.

The black mist circled around them and Hermione felt a cold shiver creep down her spine. Narcissa's grip around her waist tightened and the older witch pulled the brunette closer to her until their bodies were pressed together. More and more strands of black mist began to fill the square and the terrifying screams of unsuspecting Muggles filled Hermione's ears. She desperately looked around but she could not see anything as the wind was too strong. Desperately she clung on to Narcissa's arms. Then, suddenly, the wind just died and Hermione lifted up her head to look around. People lay sprawled out across the square, soaked in the water that still flooded from the fountain. But in the midst of it all stood a figure, tall and proud and Hermione's eyes were drawn to Voldemort. He stood exactly there where Nelson's Column had been, between the four lion statues.

"HARRY!"

It was Kingsley's voice Hermione heard booming out over the screaming voices of Muggles and her hazel eyes narrowed. Only then did she see the lifeless figure at Voldemort's feet, curled up into foetal position and his face pressed into the stone. She attempted to break free from Narcissa's strong hold but the older witch fought to hold on to her and pulled her back.

"No," she hissed into Hermione's ear. Her breath was warm against her skin. "You can't!"

"I have to!" Hermione felt cold tears trickle down her cheeks and turned to look at Narcissa. Her heart broke in her chest as the image of Harry curled up was imprinted into her brain. Narcissa's eyes pierced into Hermione's. Their faces were so close they could feel each other's breath, see every eye lash, every tear. Hermione swallowed hard. "This is my fault."

"This is no time for heroic actions, Hermione," Narcissa insisted and she kept hold of Hermione's arms. "I can't let you go."

Hermione's reply was cut off by Voldemort's high pitched voice and she turned around to look at him. He seemed so much taller, so much more powerful, than when she had seen him at MacNair castle. Her eyes desperately swept across the square looking for his Death Eaters but he was alone. There was no trace of Bellatrix. Her heart sank in her chest when she was remembered of the raven haired witch standing in the pouring rain. She felt sick and lost. Had it really been goodbye?

"My friends," spoke Voldemort and Hermione thought it ironic since everybody in this square was either his enemy or a stranger. "I stand before you tonight to mark the end of a lifetime."

Hermione watched in horror was Harry's lifeless body rose into air, higher and higher, until it floated at Voldemort's eyelevel. From where she was standing she could see his green eyes were wide open. His glasses had slipped off his nose and dangled off one of his ears. There was blood on his face and his hands. His clothes were stained and torn and there was a gaunt expression on his face. A desperate cry of pain died in the back of her throat as her eyes remained fixed on her best friend's limp body.

An array of spells shot up from various directions and Hermione searched for her own wand only to find Narcissa's fingers closed around her wrist and prevented her from responding. Hermione turned to look at the older woman and shook her head. "You have to let me do this, Narcissa. I cannot stand here and watch him die!"

Voldemort deflected all spells easily, as if he was surrounded by one big Shield Charm. He yielded his wand with grace and power. The spells crashed into the water, sending waves crashing into those standing in it. Hermione almost lost her balance and Narcissa caught her. Anger flickered in the brunette's eyes and in that one moment of inadvertence, Hermione broke out of Narcissa's arms and began making herself a way through the water.

"Hermione, NO!" Narcissa cried and hurried after the brunette. Water splashed higher and higher up her robes and her dark and blonde hair stuck to her forehead as she attempted to catch up with her.

Voldemort turned in their direction as the sound of the commotion and watched Hermione wade through the water. Something that could be described as a disdainful smile lit up his snake like face and his red eyes flickered dangerously as he watched the brunette approach. "Ah Miss Granger, I was under the impression Bellatrix had dealt with you appropriately."

"I suggest you have another look at your most loyal lieutenant," Hermione bit back and held still at the foot of the statue. Without fear she looked up to Voldemort's hand holding his wand. She felt nothing. Harry floated high above her head and she forced herself not to look at him. "Let him go. Can't you see you have won this battle already? He is in no state to defeat you. "

"Oh but this battle is far from over, Miss Granger," spoke Voldemort slowly and he flicked his wand before Hermione could blink. "CRUCIO!"

The pain was excruciating. It was as if someone had poured acid down her throat and her insides were on fire. She collapsed into the water and felt the water force its way into her mouth, her throat, and her lungs. She heaved as her body jerked and writhed and the bile rose in the back of her throat. She vomited as the tears streamed down her face. She could not fight the curse. She was too tired, too weak. The images in her head were horrific. First she saw Ron, dead at her feet. Then the bodies of her parents after they had been shipped back to England. The faces of her friends and loved ones blurred together. She fought to remain afloat, to keep her head above water. She took in a deep breath but all she got was more water down her lungs. She coughed suddenly her body went limp.

It was over.

The world looked different from where she lay. The sun was gone. All that remained was darkness. Her eyes were wide open and for a few seconds she remained motionless. Then she emerged from under the water's surface and her lungs desperately sucked in the fresh air. Tears streamed down her face and she felt two strong arms hoist her up. She coughed and shook and a tender hand brushed the strands of hair out of her eyes. Soft lips kissed her cheek and a voice filled her ears. _Narcissa_. "Foolish girl. You should have listened to me."

Another explosion of spells was fired at Voldemort by members of the Order and Ministry workers. But none of them hit their targets as they bounced off the Shield Charm surrounding him. The darkest wizard of all time just laughed a horrific, high pitched laugh that rang in Hermione's ears like a haunting echo. She sat on her knees in the cold water, soaking wet, with Narcissa's arms wrapped around her. Both were shaking as the cold water began to numb their bones. It seemed Voldemort had little interest in her. She had done her part. She had brought him Harry. And that was something she would have to live with for the rest of her life.

"Harry Potter has fought valiantly," spoke Voldemort and Hermione's hazel eyes snapped up as he spoke. Harry's body was no longer floating on his back but instead was hanging in the air in an upright position. For a split second Harry's limp body reminded Hermione of Katie Bell, who had been cursed in their sixth year by a dangerous necklace. The emotionless expression on Harry's face was disturbing, even more so when Hermione saw the tears in his green eyes. Not only was he alive, he was awake. He knew he was going to die. Voldemort's voice filled the square again. "He has watched his friends die in in vain. Oh the pride he must feel to know so many were willing to die for him and yet nothing ever came of their deaths." Voldemort's wand slowly rose up into the air and Hermione watched with open mouth as Harry's arms stretched out to her, almost as if to beg her to help.

She cried silent tears. There was nothing she could do. Around her more people waded through the water to her side. If Harry was going to die, he would die in their midst, not alone. Minerva appeared to her left, her black robes seemed to float on the water and tears trickled from behind her square spectacles. In this very moment she had suddenly aged ten years, Hermione thought. The warrior looked defeated.

There were faint popping sounds and in shrouds of black mist a group of Death Eaters appeared at Voldemort's side. None of them hid their faces behind masks and Hermione immediately recognised Lucius Malfoy with his long silvery blonde hair. She felt Narcissa's body stiffen beside her as she recognised her husband and the hatred radiated of the older woman's skin. Hermione's eyes then discovered Bellatrix, hovering behind Lucius and casually leaning against one of the lions. Her charcoal eyes were fixed on Harry floating in the sky and a disdainful smirk lingered on her pale face. Hermione felt her breath die in her throat and she tried to free herself from Narcissa but the youngest Black sister did not let her go. She too had seen Bellatrix and she knew what Hermione wanted.

"The end of an era," spoke Voldemort delicately and his snake like tongue protruded from his mouth as the words left his lips. His fiery red eyes fixed on the crowd watching him and in that instant Hermione understood that this was what he had planned. Voldemort wanted the world to see Harry die. He wanted them to feel helpless, torn and devastated. She watched as the dark wizard's wand rose as if in slow motion. Around her people responded by sending curse after curse and jinx after jinx but the Death Eaters moved swiftly. Hermione did nothing. She could not find her wand in the water, though her hand desperately patted the bottom. She found nothing.

Andromeda was thrown back into the water by one of Bellatrix's hexes and disappeared under the surface for a few seconds before reappearing. Her brown curls stuck to her forehead and blood was gushing from her nose and a cut on her cheek. Draco rushed to her side and helped her up. Arthur and Bill were supporting Fleur, who had been it by a spell that left her arm almost cut off from the rest of her body. The water in which they were standing quickly changed into a horrific shade of red and all the colour drained from Fleur's face and her eyes rolled all the way back into her head. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly and a soft, smothered moan fell from her lips.

"This is the end."

The words rang out and were followed by a deafening silence. For a few seconds the world seemed frozen and Hermione' eyes swept around the scene. The members of the Order stood in the knee deep water, their bodies damaged and their souls destroyed. High above them stood Voldemort and his Death Eaters and Harry floated in the air. It was the end. It was al over. And Hermione's eyes fluttered shut in agony as the spell left Voldemort's lips, shot through his wand and made contact with Harry's body.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

With a splash Harry's lifeless body plunged into the water, sending another large wave into all of those already there. A horrific scream rose from the watching crowd, Muggles and wizards alike and Hermione found herself scrambling through her water, having broken free from Narcissa's arms. Her heart hammered in her chest and her lungs pressed against her ribcage. She fell face forward into the cold water in her rush to get to Harry but she crawled back up, ignoring the shock that had already begun to spread through her. Harry's body had floated back onto the surface and he lay face down in the cold water, lifeless. Hermione reached him first and her cold and numb fingers tucked at his clothes to turn him over. When she saw his face she knew she was too late. He was dead. His green eyes were lifeless and his glasses were missing. Yet she cradled him, pressing his limp body against her chest and her burning tears dripped into his dark hair.

There was an outcry of pain and the explosion of spells went past her completely as she rocked Harry's body, muttering words intended only for him. She never saw how Voldemort disappeared into a black cloud, leaving behind the chaos and devastation he had caused. The black shapes of Death Eaters were shooting across the square, attacking people at random. She heard Narcissa's angry voice shout abuse at her husband and when she lifted her head up long enough she witnessed Narcissa cast a powerful Stunning Spell at her husband and Lucius' body was thrown against one of the lions before slumping down into the water and disappearing under the surface.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Hermione whispered and brushed the dark hair out of Harry's eyes. He still felt warm under her hands and she imagined him standing up, telling her it had all been a lie like it had been before. But he did not move. His green eyes were no longer filled with live. Now only one of them remained. She had stood by and watched two of her best friends die. The Golden Trio was no more. Their legacy had been torn apart right before her eyes. "This is all happened because of me."

"Hermione!"

It was Kingsley's voice and she looked up, numbed. He stood beside her and extended his hand. Instead of taking it, she gave him Harry. He frowned for a moment but then he scooped up Harry's body into his strong arms, shot blue jets into the sky and turned on the spot. The blue jets together formed a large lightning bolt and around them members of the Order looked up and copied Kingsley's spell. A variety of coloured lightning bolts decorated the ink black sky and one by one the Order of the Phoenix Dissaparated. Hermione still sat on her knees in the freezing water and watched Narcissa walk towards her. The older witch wrapped her arms around her and pulled her onto her feet before pressing her securely against her chest. A tender hand cradled the brunette's head and she kissed her hair.

Over Narcissa's shoulder Hermione saw Bellatrix standing by one of the lions. There was blood on her face but other than that she seemed unhurt. Her ink black eyes found Hermione, wrapped up in her sister's arms, and it was the first time Hermione saw fury in Bellatrix's eyes. This wasn't over.

Narcissa and Hermione Dissaparated and left behind an infuriated Bellatrix and a dozen brightly coloured lightning bolts that lit up the dark night.

.


	17. Like Moths To A Flame

**Chapter 17**

Returning to the Burrow was horrific and Hermione fought Narcissa as the older witch tried to drag her into the house. They were both soaking wet and cold and endless tears were streaming down Hermione's face. Narcissa's right arm was wrapped around Hermione's shoulders, the other around her waist as she guided the younger brunette to the front door. She could feel her resist her touches but Narcissa was not giving in. Their wet clothes stuck to their skin, their bones felt numb and frozen and their hot breath created clouds in the dark sky. They stumbled into the warm kitchen where they were greeted by Molly, whose eyes were puffy and red, and Minerva, who looked grey and withdrawn. Both witches quickly wrapped Hermione and Narcissa in warm cloaks before rushing them into the living room and sitting them down by the fire. Everybody else was sitting around the fireplace, staring into the flames or their drinks. They were lost in their thoughts and memories.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked with a hoarse voice and looked up to Minerva. There was urgency to her words. Desperation flickered in her hazel eyes. "Where is he?"

"Upstairs," Minerva answered slowly. Hermione heard the tears in her voice. "Ginny…."

Hermione threw off her cloak and stood up. Narcissa attempted to grab her arm but she stepped aside and shook her head. She stared at Minerva and the Headmistress recognised something in Hermione's eyes she had seen in Harry's not long after Sirius had died. It was the sort of grief nobody could really understand. Hermione swallowed. "I need to see him. Now!"

"Come with me," said Minerva softly and took Hermione's arm. Together they made their way up the stairs to the second floor and held still outside one of the bedrooms. To her horror Hermione realised it was Ron's old bedroom; the same room where she had attempted to hex Narcissa. She felt her heart pound in her chest as her trembling fingers reached for the door handle and Minerva gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze. Then she turned around and her black robes rustled behind her as she descended down the stairs. Hermione hesitated for a few seconds before slowly opening the door and stepping into the room.

It was dark apart from the few candles scattered around the room. The tiny flames barely illuminated the room but they brought a golden glow to Harry's pale features. Ron's bed had been placed back into the room, right under the window. Instead of being made up with bright orange to match the Chudley Canons, like it had been back in the day for Ron, the bed was covered in red and golden cloths; the colours of Gryffindor. Harry's body lay on the bed, on his back, his hands folded on his chest. His green eyes were closed and someone had found his glasses, as they sat on his nose.

As Hermione walked into the room she found Ginny standing by the window. Her hands rested on the large swell of her stomach and the dark red lines on her face betrayed where the tears had been before. She looked up when Hermione hesitantly entered and their eyes met. Hermione took a deep breath as she strode across the room and when she reached Ginny she wrapped her arms around her friend and pulled her nearer. Ginny's head rested on Hermione's shoulder and they stood like this, neither looking at Harry's body.

"I just don't know what I am going to do now," Ginny whispered softly and looked up. Tears glistened in her brown eyes and she shook her head. Her hands caressed the baby bump and Hermione followed her touch. She could not begin to imagine Ginny's situation. She was still so young, with a baby on the way, and now a widow. "Harry was so excited about this baby. All he wanted was to be a father. He wanted to be there for this baby like James never could." His voice trailed off and she gazed out of the window. "But now history pretty much repeats itself"

"I am so sorry, Gin," Hermione whispered and brushed a strand of red hair out of Ginny's face. "I know you may not believe it right now but there will be a day that you're ready to face the world like it is now. You and your beautiful baby, together. Harry will live on in him or her. I bet they'll have his green eyes, you know and probably that messy dark hair too." She smiled at the idea of a mini Harry.

"I feel so…" Ginny began but she seemed unable to find the word to describe how she felt. Hermione watched her for a few seconds and then Ginny turned away from her and began walking to the door. She turned in the door way and shot a final glance at Harry's body resting on the bed. With tears in her eyes Ginny closed the door behind her and left Hermione alone in the silence of her own guilt. She could hear her own heartbeat and her hazel eyes were drawn to Harry's body. Hesitantly she walked across the room and when she reached the bed she dropped down to her knees and reached out a tentative hand. His skin felt cold under her touch when she picked up his hand and took it into her own.

"I am so sorry, Harry," Hermione whispered and tried to swallow the lump in her throat away. But instead of disappearing it only grew bigger and it constricted her voice as she tried to speak. Her words were muffled by her sadness. "If only I had been better." She reached for his forehead and brushed aside his hair to reveal the scar that had made him so famous. "If only I had been stronger. I should have told you the truth a long time ago. About what happened to me, about what is still happening to me." She felt a tear trickle down her cheek. "I should have told you about Bellatrix but it is too late now. My secret killed you and Ron."

She sat beside him for what felt like an eternity. She watched the candlelight reflect in his glasses, imagining how the light would brighten up his eyes if he had been looking at her. She imagined him back in the Gryffindor common room, all those nights they had done their homework together and spent night after night talking by the fire. She remembered the times they had laughed and cried together, the fears and the victories they had shared. The memories became so much more vivid. She was the only one left to remember them now. A burden of guilt and sadness pressed heavily down upon her the more time passed and when the bedroom door opened she looked over her shoulder. Her eyes swam with tears as she watched Narcissa enter the room.

"Hey," said the older woman softly and her brown eyes fixed on Harry's body. Sadness was written across her face. "They asked me to go and check whether you were allright. Do you want me to leave?"

"No," Hermione whispered softly and buried her face in her hands as she began to sob uncontrollably. Narcissa hurried across the room and wrapped her arms around the crying brunette before pulling her nearer. Soft fingers ran through bushy curls and caressed the back of the younger woman's neck. Hermione's tears burnt down her skin before seeping into Narcissa's robes. The memories were so painful. Every thought was laced with guilt. Her voice was reduced to a whisper. "I can't believe they are both dead."

"It is the unfortunate side effect of war, I am afraid," said Narcissa slowly and caressed Hermione's cheek.

Hermione's eyes darkened and she turned her face away from Narcissa. "Or the unfortunate side effect of one third of the Golden Trio not being able to live up to her part of the deal. This is my fault, Narcissa. I did this."

"You did not kill Ron or Harry," Narcissa said sharply.

"I might as well have," Hermione answered harshly and shook her head. There was anger flickering in her hazel eyes and she stared at Harry's pale face. He would have hated her if he had known. He would understand what it felt like, to never be alone in your own mind, but he would have hated her for it being Bellatrix that had captivated her. "I never told them about Bellatrix. Ron knew, I think. He suspected something throughout all these years. Whenever someone mentioned her name, he could see it in my eyes. He began to understand why I could not live with him, why I could not love him."

"What my sister did to you left scars," Narcissa said and her gaze dropped to Hermione's arm. Her sleeve covered up the silver lines across her arm. "And what happened…."

"Are you justifying my actions to make me feel better?" Hermione asked in surprise and arched an eyebrow. "You? The same woman who told me that what was happening between me and Bellatrix wasn't right? The one who warned me about her poison, about how she would destroy me?" She paused and Narcissa stared at her in bewilderment. "Bellatrix didn't just destroy me, Narcissa. She destroyed my life and everything in it."

"Hermione…"

"Don't!" Hermione jumped stood up and turned her back on Harry and Narcissa. "You know why I tried to modify your memory, don't you?"

"Because you didn't want me to know the truth about you and Bellatrix," Narcissa answered slowly and she put her hand on Hermione's shoulder. The young woman turned around and their gazes locked. "You forget I already knew, Hermione. The night the Order attacked the Manor, I knew. I knew my sister had an obsession for you. An obsession you shared. It was only a matter of time before…" Her voice trailed off and her eyes glazed over. "How many times?"

"Does it matter?" Hermione asked softly and shook her head. "You can never tell anyone, Narcissa. Nobody must ever know." She paused. "I cannot face them. What I have done is unforgivable. They will never trust me again and rightfully so. Hermione Granger in love with Bellatrix Lestrange. Imagine that. I am a traitor. I knowingly brought Harry to MacNair castle because Bellatrix wanted me to. I did not even stop MacNair from taking your blood because I wanted her back!"

"Love is a strange thing."

"No shit Sherlock," Hermione snapped and turned away. "I have to leave."

"What? No!" Narcissa objected and grabbed Hermione's arm. She forced her to look at her. Outside the rain started pouring down and it hammered against the bedroom window. The sound was monotone and strangely soothing. The wind picked up and the trees were bending backwards and forwards in the orchard. The old wooden gate slammed, creating a haunting, eerie sound. An unexpected flash of lightening illuminated their faces and Narcissa looked at Hermione. "You can't leave!"

Hermione pointed at the bed. "This is what happens if I stay here. Soon all of you will end up like this!" She writhed free from Narcissa's grip and started for the door. The older witch grabbed hold of her again before she could leave the room and forced her to turn around. "Narcissa, for Merlin's sake, let me go!"

"Now you listen to me, Hermione Granger," Narcissa said in a tone that would only be fitting for a mother telling off her child. Hermione defiantly stared back at her. "You can't walk out now! The world out there changed tonight. By dawn Azkaban will be filled with those opposing the Dark Lord. All that remains for us tis to go underground. The Dark Lord is now in full power and out there awaits nothing but darkness. They will round of up the Muggleborns and use them as slaves, or kill them. If they find you, your fate will most surely be death!"

Hermione swallowed and empty eyes gazed up at Narcissa. "My heart is already dead. There is no place for me here anymore." She cocked her head and arched an eyebrow. "Why are you so desperate for me to stay? Only you are willing to lie for me. Why?"

Narcissa's eyes suddenly filled with tears and she averted her gaze. "Maybe because Bellatrix isn't the only one who's seen you, Hermione."

Hermione leant in and kissed the older woman on her cheek. "I'm sorry, Narcissa."

She turned on her heels and made her way down the stairs before Narcissa had a chance to react. She knew that she would never go after her, or talk to her, like she had just done in front of the others. She walked into the living room and sensed the sadness in the air. People still sat around the fire, drinking Firewhisky and Butterbeer. They looked up when Hermione walked in and they all sent her looks of compassion and empathy. She looked at each and every single one of them for a moment, long enough to memorise their faces from this day onwards. The last person she looked at was Andromeda, who sat nearest to the fire. Their gazes locked and Hermione sadly smiled.

"I…" she began but paused when Narcissa appeared behind her. She avoided looking at her and instead fixed her eyes on the wooden floorboards. "Mrs Weasley, I'm sorry but I think I'd rather be alone tonight."

"You might need this then," said Minerva and handed Hermione her wand. A smile spread across the brunette's face and the Headmistress looked at her. "You have done well, Hermione. Like I said before, I am so very proud of you. Nobody ever thought this day would come; that only one of the Golden Trio would remain. You must know Harry and Ron would be proud of you too."

Hermione sadly shook her head. "Somehow I doubt that but thank you anyway, Minerva." Her hazel eyes found Narcissa and their gazes locked. What she saw in Narcissa's eyes almost broke her heart and she swallowed. "Goodbye, Cissy."

She hugged Molly and allowed the Weasley matriarch to see her out. As she opened the front door she was faced with the pouring rain and in a flash she saw Harry's body fall again. She turned to look at Molly. Her voice was strangely plain and emotionless. "When will the funeral be?"

"I don't know, dear," Molly answered with a sad little smile. "Kingsley wonders whether we need to do something so people can say goodbye but with Voldemort now being out there in full power it might be better to do a quiet funeral. Maybe next to Ron."

Hermione had a vision of there being three plots, all side by side. One for Ron, one for Harry and one empty one for her. She imagined the matching headstones, the flowers. She nodded slowly and stepped out into the rain. It poured down on her and she looked up to the ink black sky, allowing the cold rain to trickle down her face. It washed away the remainder of her tears. With a sigh she turned on the spot and Dissaparated into the night. Molly Weasley watched for a few more seconds and then slowly closed the door. When she turned around she found Narcissa standing right behind her, a single tear trickling down her cheek.

~()~

Appearing outside her apartment building she found it was raining in London too. She entered the communal garden and looked out over the lawn. It was dark and as she stood there she was reminded of the night Bellatrix had first come to see her. Anger rushed through her veins like acid and she clenched her fists before slamming them against the brick walls of the apartment building. The pain was instant and blood trickled down her hands where the skin had broken on her knuckles. She repeated the action over and over, bashing her fists against the unforgiving bricks. Her hands began to swell but she ignored the pain. More blood trickled down her skin. Angry tears streamed down her face and desperate moans fell from her lips until she slumped down to the ground and covered her face in her bloodied hands. The rain poured down on her and the water laced with her tears. Desperately she looked up and with a hoarse, broken voice she called into the night.

"Come on then! I know you're there! You have bloody well been watching me all this time, you might as well just show yourself, Bellatrix!"

There was a faint pop and Hermione could hear the footsteps on the grass before she could even see Bellatrix. But when the raven haired Death Eater walked into the dim light falling into the garden from one of the street lights, Hermione's head whipped up. Bloody smudges covered her cheeks and her hands were a mess. Her fingers were bruised, swollen and covered in blood. In places the skin had come off. Dark hazel eyes searched Bellatrix's face but she did not stand up. Instead she tilted her head back and arched an eyebrow.

"Go on then," she urged Bellatrix. The dark witch studied Hermione's face as if she was an interesting specimen. "You've got what you wanted. Kill me!"

The corners of Bellatrix's mouth curled up into a twisted smile and her long nails trailed down Hermione's cheek. "Now why would I do that?" she teased, rolling her wand through her fingers. She watched how Hermione stared at it almost longingly. The craving for death was strong. "We were having so much fun." Her nail dug firmly into Hermione's cheek, drawing more tears from her eyes. Bellatrix's lips came closer to Hermione's. "Unless of course, you prefer to be with my sister."

"What?" Hermione whispered in confusion and her eyes widened in shock. She attempted to crawl back onto her feet but Bellatrix was less than supportive and she lost her balance. "No! No!"

"She seems to have taken a liking to you," Bellatrix said in a mocking singsong voice. Her nail had pierced Hermione's skin and drawn blood. Burgundy drops now laced with her tears and seeped down her cheek. "My delightful yet slightly foolish sister…" She brushed her lips against the small cut on Hermione's cheek and tasted the blood on her tongue. "Does she_ love_ you, mudblood?"

"N-no" Hermione lied and her eyes fluttered shut under the unexpected soft caressing. "Please…"

Bellatrix took a step back and Hermione managed to get back onto her feet. Her hands were sore and she looked down at them for a few seconds before looking up at Bellatrix. The raven haired woman was drenched and she looked insanely beautiful in the dim streetlight, with her black ringlets stuck to her forehead and her furious ink black eyes. In that moment Hermione forget about the restrictions, about everything that had happened, and she rushed towards Bellatrix. Desperate arms flung around the dark witch's neck, pulling her closer. She did not kiss her. She merely sought shelter in her arms and to her surprise, Bellatrix arms enveloped around her and they stood like this in the pouring rain.

When they parted the world seemed to have become a darker, more twisted place. Hermione met Bellatrix's blazing black orbs and felt her heart shatter in her chest. The world, and life, as she had known it was over. Bellatrix's hungry lips unexpectedly crashed down on Hermione's and she kissed her, passionately, and her slender fingers entwined in the brunette's wet curls. Whilst kissing they stumbled back into the building, up the stairs and through Hermione's front door. They did not wait to reach the bedroom and Hermione straddled Bellatrix on the hallway floor, throwing back her head in enjoyment as Bellatrix's hands forced their way up under her top and found the swells of her breasts. Long, sharp nails clawed at her nipples through the lace of her bra before sliding down her waist and slipping behind the waistband of her jeans.

They tore away their wet clothes and kissed the exposed skin that lay hidden underneath. Hungry, bruising lips nipped and bit at glowing flesh. Trained, slim fingers followed curves and lines, dipped in valleys of endless wetness and arousal. Proud, swollen nipples stood proud on full breasts. Tongues twirled around each other, licked the shapes of lips and tasted the rain, sex and tears that lingered on their skin. Their bodies fitted seamlessly together, like twisted perfection. Pain echoed through their cries and Hermione wept as her body trembled during her orgasm. Bellatrix licked the tears from her cheeks as her fingers brought the younger brunette to yet another explosive release.

~()~

Dawn came too soon and Hermione found herself waking up on the floor of her apartment, only a few steps from the front door. She was naked, curled up into a ball and partially covered by her jumper and she blinked a few times as she slowly became aware of her surroundings. A cold shiver crept down her spine and slowly she sat up. Her body protested under the weight change and she groaned, running her hands through her hair. The floor was littered with her clothes but Bellatrix's were missing. She gathered her clothes and stood up, unsteady on her feet. Just as she walked past her bedroom she found the dark haired witch standing by the bedroom window. Hermione dropped her clothes and walked into the room, naked, and wrapped her arms around Bellatrix's waist.

"I thought you had left," she said and Bellatrix turned to look at her. Hermione's eyes narrowed and a depressing feeling set in. "You _are_ leaving, aren't you?"

"I am not the sort of person you have staying over for breakfast," Bellatrix answered with a smirk and ran a hand across Hermione's cheek before kissing her gently. "Besides, you've got company."

"What?" Hermione breathed and peered out of the window. It looked out over the communal garden but there was nobody there. Her heart hammered in her chest. "Merlin, Bella, there is nobody there!"

Bellatrix grinned and ran her fingers through her thick black curls. There was a strange twinkle in her dark eyes and she broke free from Hermione's arms. "Wrong side of the house, Granger. Someone Apparated at the front a few seconds ago. Anyway, time for me to go. I'll see you around."

"Wait!" Hermione urged and stretched out a hand. Bellatrix did not take it and desperately the brunette searched her lover's pale face. Bellatrix did not acknowledge her look. "Is this how it's going to be from now on? You come and go as you please and we live this secret life?"

"That's what it's always been like," Bellatrix answered with a playful smirk and the mask of the cold, distant Death Eater returned. A disdainful smile graced her porcelain toned face. She checked her sleeve for her wand and at that very same moment there was a brief yet firm knock on the front door. Bellatrix winked and began to turn on the spot. "And that's what it always will be."

The next second she was gone.

Hermione stood naked in her bedroom and there was another persistent knock on the front door. She looked around for something to wear and resulted in grabbing one of the silk sheets of the bed and wrapped it around her body before walking into the hall to open the door. Through the peephole she recognised Narcissa and felt her heartbeat increase. She slowly opened the door; just enough to peer her head around and looked at the older witch standing outside. Narcissa looked tired, with dark rings around her eyes and when she saw Hermione her dull eyes lit up.

"Hermione," Narcissa began and her gaze dropped when she realised Hermione's shoulders were bare and she noticed she was dressed in a bed sheet. Her fine shaped eyebrows shot up and a puzzled look filed her eyes. There was hesitation in her voice. "I was wondering whether I could talk to you?"

"This isn't a good time," Hermione answered slowly and tucked at the sheet wrapped around her. A blush appeared on her cheeks as she realised Narcissa understood what she had been doing and she wondered if the older woman knew who had been with her throughout the night. "Listen, I know what you said and its allright. Really. There is no need to apologise."

"I didn't come to apologise," Narcissa said persistently and her dark eyes swept over Hermione's frame. She observed the bruising near Hermione's collarbone. "Is she still here? My sister?"

"No," Hermione answered firmly and a hardened expression fell over her face. "She was never here. I was alone."

"Then please," Narcissa urged "Will you please let me in?"


	18. Truth Amongst Lies

**A/N: **My friends, have we all seen Deathly Hallows 2? All my love for Narcissa. I swear, that is one brave woman. Now, back to this story. I have come up with another plot for this, call it a reason to carry this story on for another while. I hope you will all stick around and see where this is going. The question remains; who can you trust? ~Cissy

* * *

**Chapter 18**

The world had changed. She stared out of her living room window into a world that was being engulfed by flames. It had been mere hours since Harry's death but already the victory of Lord Voldemort left marks, permanent reminders, behind. Fire engines were racing through the city in an attempt to stop the blazing fires from spreading. Buildings were on fire across large parts of London, with bright red and orange flames eating their way at the foundations. Thick black plumes of smoke were circling up into the air. The streets were filled with Muggles and wizards alike, some of them wandering around aimlessly with an empty look in their eyes. It was hard to tell who had hexed them. Aurors and Ministry workers were doing the best they could to minimalize the damage to the Muggle world and erase memories wherever they could but it was a lost battle. By now all the news channels were all reporting on what had happened at Trafalgar Square. Hermione watched with pain in her heart as in the distance another plume of smoke erupted. The world was burning.

Narcissa watched from the sofa, her eyes lingering on the brunette's frail frame. She had her hands folded in her lap and fought not to look at the devastation outside. Her dark eyes snapped up to Hermione's face when the younger woman turned away from the window and their eyes met across the distance of the room. Hermione's eyes swam with tears.

"We can bring them back!" she cried as the tears began to stream down her face. In the distorted reflection of the glass she had seen Harry and Ron, staring back at her. The guilt was almost unbearable. "If we find the Ruby Hyacinth, we can bring them both back!"

Narcissa slowly stood up and carefully enveloped the other woman into her arms. She caressed the thick brown curls, letting them run through her fingers. She looked over Hermione's shoulder out of the window, at the burning world outside. The flames reflected in her eyes. Pressing Hermione safely against her chest she could feel her tremble and Narcissa tenderly placed a kiss on her head.

"Kingsley went back after the battle at MacNair Castle" Narcissa said softly and the images of that very night flooded back into her mind. "Him and Andromeda. She begged him to take her with him. They had the same idea you had; to use the Hyacinth to bring them back; Harry and Ron, Fred, Nymphadora, Remus and Ted. But they didn't find it, Hermione."

"What?"

"It was most likely destroyed in the Battle."

"NO!" Hermione's voice was filled with anger and Narcissa could feel her body tense up.

"Hermione…"

"So this is it then? We fight till every last man or woman has died?" Hermione snapped and she broke free out of Narcissa's embrace. She turned to look at her. Hazel eyes were blazing, filled with hatred, sadness and guilt. It was in that instant that Narcissa saw, for the very first time, what it was her sister had done to Hermione. The resemblance in their anger was striking. Hermione's voice lowered to a dangerous tone. "_Leave_, Cissy!"

"What are you going to do?" Narcissa looked at her and attempted to take Hermione's hand but the brunette turned away. Rejection spread across the older woman's face. "Listen to me, Hermione."

"I am done listening, Narcissa. My friends are dead because of me! Because all these years I have been…" Hermione could not find the words. She made a gesture to the burning world outside. The thick plumes of smoke were disfiguring the once blue sky. The world was shrouded in grey now and the smell of smoke, fire and death lingered in the streets. "I did nothing to stop MacNair that night he attacked you, back at the Manor, because the idea of Bellatrix coming back made me feel alive! Up till then I was as dead as she was! I died too, that night at Hogwarts! What friend of Harry Potter falls in love with a Death Eater?"

Narcissa looked at Hermione in horror. The last member of the Golden Trio crumbled before her eyes. Hermione's eyes were still blazing with anger yet at the same time they were filled with tears. The dark rings around her eyes were a stark reminder of just how broken she really was and her chest was heaving as she stared at Narcissa, ready to take on whatever she was about to say in return. She had suppressed her emotions, her feelings, for too long and now it all fell apart. And Narcissa wanted to help her so badly.

"This isn't…"

"My fault?" Hermione finished Narcissa's sentence, leaving the older woman lost for words. "Yes, it is! And neither of us can stand here and deny it any longer! I led Harry into that trap at MacNair Castle! I did nothing when Bellatrix murdered Ron! Ginny has to raise her baby alone because I allowed Harry to go and…."

"We all allowed Harry to go, Hermione. Harry wanted to save his family. He knew what he was doing. He was always reckless like that. That night at the Ministry of Magic, when he went to save Sirius and almost had all of his friends killed? Or that night in the Forbidden Forest when he came to seek the Dark Lord. He wanted to die if it meant others wouldn't." Narcissa sounded desperate and her dark eyes widened as she took a step in Hermione's direction.

Hermione shook her head. "It was supposed to be over!" She began walking across the living room with an intense stride, to the front door, and grabbed her cloak as she reached it. Narcissa hurried after her and grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn around. In that instant her protective nature surfaced and she softly caressed the back of Hermione's hand with her thumb. Empty eyes found her own and fear crept into Narcissa's heart.

"Nobody else is going to die for my lies, Cissy."

"What? Where are you going?"

"Somewhere safe."

Narcissa shook her head in disbelief. She grasped hold of Hermione's hand a little bit tighter, as if to prevent her from leaving. "Look around, Hermione! The world has changed! _Nowhere_ is safe!"

Hermione's hazel eyes found Narcissa's brown and a sad smile broke through on her face. "Safe for you. Not for me."

It began to dawn on Narcissa and tears filled her eyes. Outside a heavy explosion startled both of them and Hermione flinched. Death Eaters were patrolling neighbourhoods, looking for innocent victims and supporters of Harry. The explosions were their way of letting the world know they had found yet another and had eradicated the problem. A single tear found its way down Narcissa's cheek as she pleaded with Hermione. "No. You can't do this. Think of your family!"

Hermione opened the front door. Even though she was several stories up the scent of burning wood filled their noses and smoke tickled their lungs. The stench of death lingered everywhere. The apartment building was deserted apart from Hermione. The Muggles in her building had been moved and Kingsley had forced her to place a Fidelius Charm on her home. The remaining members of the Order were Secret Keeper. She had reluctantly accepted. A twisted smile appeared on Hermione's face. So much for a secret; she was about to give the truth away.

She stepped outside, clutching her wand, and pulled her hood over her head as to obscure her face. Hazel eyes found dark brown. "I have no family, Cissy. I watched them die in the last few days. I am alone."

"Wait!" Narcissa stepped out of the apartment and grabbed the sleeve of her cloak. "You are not alone! I am here, if you let me." Even in this dark hour there was still a shimmer of hope. Hermione could hear it in her voice.

Hermione weakly smiled and leant in. She briefly kissed Narcissa on her lips; a soft kiss that would soon be forgotten, once the darkness came to take them all away. When she pulled away their cheeks were stained by each other's tears. A silent goodbye as neither knew whether they would ever see each other again. By dawn they could both be dead. "Perhaps in another lifetime, Cissy."

With those words she turned around and began making her way down the flights of stairs and disappeared outside. Narcissa stood frozen for a moment before rushing into the living room and through the window she watched Hermione walk into the burning world. Slim fingers caressed the glass, desperate to touch the lone figure walking off into the night. Seconds later Hermione had disappeared in the darkness. All Narcissa saw in the darkened glass was her reflection. Hermione was gone.

~()~

It reminded her of that fateful night at Hogwarts. The streets were littered with rubble as houses smouldered to her left and right. They had been destroyed, their walls blown apart and the windows broken. Front doors still wide open, offering a terrifying insight in how Death Eaters had just walked in, took the Muggles by surprise as they slept, and leaving nothing alive behind. A home was supposed to make someone feel safe, offer protection. There was no protection against the Death Eaters. Not a single lock could keep them out. Hermione stared at one of the destroyed houses for a moment, remembering the Muggle family that lived there; mother and father with two little children and a golden retriever. It was all gone. They were dead. A burnt carcass of a dog had been left in the front garden. Dust and ashes covered burnt out cars. Apart from the burning fires and the sound of the flames eating away at the foundations of people's homes, she was surrounded by silence. It was as if she was walking through a ghost town, deserted in a time of war. This was a war but it was most definitely not a ghost town. Evil and danger lurked in every shadow, around every corner; it had merely learnt to remain silent.

It wasn't until the heavens opened and rain began pouring down that she stopped walking and instead turned on the spot and Dissaparated. When she opened her eyes she found herself standing in the open fields surrounding the Burrow. She had broken through its magical protection and stared up at the house that once had felt like a second home and in the recent days had begun to feel like this again. Lights flickered behind its windows and she could see people walk. She imagined them, sitting together as they shared their grief. Their tears hot against their skin, their hearts robbed of whatever hope they had one held to overcome this war, the emptiness that had invaded them. She resisted walking to the front door; to knock and see their faces. She didn't come to see them. She had come to say goodbye.

The rain poured even harder now, hammering down on her hood, seeping through her cloak and the cold drops of water reached her skin. Her brown hair stuck to her forehead and the raindrops laced with through her tears. And then she turned her back on them and began walking away, back into the darkness from which she had emerged. As she disappeared into the night with a faint pop, her whisper still lingered on as an echo in the rain long after she was gone.

"I'm sorry."

~()~

She didn't know where she was going. As she reopened her eyes she stood in the forest and in the distance she could hear the river. Nothing had changed in all these years. She turned around, half and half expecting to find the tent standing at the top of the small hill. There was nothing there. She was alone. The forest of Dean still breathed its magic, brought the back the memories it sheltered. And she walked, allowing the fallen leaves to twirl up in the air with every step; a silent dance that was only to last for a few seconds before they would fall back down, left to rot and to whither. She had shared some intense moments here, together with Harry and Ron. It was where they had destroyed one of the Horcruxes. It was where they had escaped to after the events in Godric's Hollow. It had been a safe haven, at least for a while.

All the memories flooded back into her mind and she could hear the whispers coming from the shadows. The voices of the past were speaking to her, reminding her why she had once been here and what she had done. It had been way before Malfoy Manor, before the nightmares started and the desperate cravings in her heart were born. It was before it felt like her soul was being torn apart, every single day. Back then, when they were here together, she had still believed in all things good. She had held hope they could win and they had won. Once. But not this time. Things were different now.

"Getting sentimental are we, Granger?"

She spun around and found the dark cloaked figure leaning against one of the trees. Raindrops glistened on their shiny black robes and Hermione drew her wand the second she recognised the grey eyes. They were burnt into her memory. Lucius Malfoy's intense eyes pierced into her own as he carefully strode towards her, his black robe rustled as he walked. He had drawn his own wand and a disdainful smirk lingered on his face.

Hermione's hazel eyes narrowed. "How did you know where I was?"

"Magic knows mysterious ways," Lucius answered with a simple hand gesture. Hermione's gaze dropped to his wand before snapping back up to his face. A fresh scar covered part of his face and she suspected he had sustained the injury when Narcissa had stunned him in Trafalgar Square. "Let me say that we were expecting your arrival, Miss Granger."

"Really?" Hermione answered sharply, causing Lucius to grin "Somehow I seriously doubt that."

"Oh but we were, Miss Granger. We were."

"Who's _we_?" Hermione's eyes darted around the forest but she could not see anyone but herself and Lucius. She looked back at the man who was married to Narcissa. His wife had confessed her love for her not even an hour ago. He was Draco's father and his son now sided with the Order. Whatever Lucius Malfoy had left to lose, Hermione doubted it was an awful lot. She smirked. "Surely the Dark Lord would not have sent you out on your own. I mean, you don't have the best track record in fulfilling his tasks successfully now have you?"

"How dare you, you insolent little…." Lucius spat and raised his wand. Hermione was quicker and her own hand shot up, casting the Shield Charm before Lucius had even managed to utter a spell. His grey eyes were emotionless and his face pale. Yet she knew the anger, the hatred, in his veins. He was desperate to prove himself to Voldemort, as his wife and son had abandoned him. The strength of her spell almost knocked him off his feet and Hermione used those few seconds to her advantage and spun around. She began to run and for a few moments she did not hear any footsteps behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and watched the black mist approach. A cry escaped from her throat as she ducked and the mist flew over her. Hermione shot off to the left, through the trees, and dodged a few long hanging branches before one scraped across her forehead, breaking the skin. Drops of blood began to trickle down her face but she kept running. Her heart pounded fiercely in her chest, with a twisted sense of pride.

She reached the river bed quicker than she had expected and found herself faced with open fields, nowhere to hide, and the wild flowing water. She looked around and saw the black mist take on the shape of Lucius Malfoy not far behind her. He walked across the grass towards her, tall and strong, his wand drawn. For a few moments she contemplated waiting for him, letting him grab her.

"One should never allow another person to see into their mind, Miss Granger," spoke Lucius with his familiar drawling voice.

"Bellatrix…" Hermione breathed and a sense of betrayal crept up on her but she did not show it. She had been weak, let her guard down, whenever she had been around the raven haired Death Eater. Who was to say she had not seen into her mind, seen the memories she kept there. The places that had once been safe to her; none of them would ever be safe again. "_Bellatrix_ sent you?"

"Bellatrix is but part of the game, Miss Granger. This…" Lucius gestured around. The wind picked up and took her breath away. The temperature dropped and the bitter cold found its way through her clothes, her skin, all the way down to her bones. "…is part of something bigger. Something a mind like your own cannot even begin to comprehend"

"Makes you wonder how yours possibly can."

Lucius ignored the insult and continued to walk towards her. Hermione took a few steps backwards, nearer to the river. The water was wild and freezing cold, she knew. No one would stand a chance once in the water. She clutched her wand just a little bit tighter and did not move her eyes away from Lucius. He was but a mere few steps away from her now. His hood had fallen off, revealing the silver blonde hair. As she stood before him she could see he had aged. Time had been unkind to him.

"But to answer your question, Miss Granger, Bellatrix did not send me. I doubt she even knows I am here," Lucius answered and the disturbing twinkle in his eyes worried Hermione. She knew him to be a man who would do anything to gain back the favours of Lord Voldemort. When he took another step in her direction, she moved backwards only to find there was no ground left under her feet. She had reached the river. There was nowhere else to turn to.

"Then why are you here? Why were you looking for me? What does Voldemort need me for now that Harry is dead?" She saw the flicker of fear in Lucius' eyes now that she mentioned the Dark Lord's name. Some things never changed. Her heart cried in victory. Her eyes narrowed. "There is something else. Something not even you can comprehend."

"The Dark Lord," Lucius began and his eyes widened when he realised there was nowhere for Hermione to go. "He has a need for you."

Hermione felt her heart bounce in her chest and adrenaline rushed through her veins. She held her head high, lifted up her chin and gave Lucius the most arrogant look she could muster.

"Well I am afraid he will just have to wait."

She heard him cry out when she took another step backwards and lost her footing. For a second it felt as if she was flying. For one frozen second it was as if she hovered in the air, above the freezing water. She only had a mere few seconds to change the outcome of her actions. The wind pulled at her hair and the water came scarily close. She looked up, just in time to see Lucius peer over the edge, down to the water. And just as she captured his gaze, she flicked her wand and she Dissaparated in mid-air. His protest screams still rang in her ears as she whizzed through space and when she opened her eyes she was lying face down in muddy soil.

Andromeda's cottage lay behind a white picket fence, with neatly kept gardens which still looked nice even in the rotten weather. There were roses in a variety of colours and as Hermione walked through the little gate and towards the front door, her eyes were drawn to the little fairies that were whizzing around the bright coloured flowers. She did not try and attempt to work out whether they were real or not and focused on the front door. It swung open before she could even knock and Andromeda had appeared in the open door, dressed in simple blue robes. A shy looking young boy peered from behind her legs. He had bright blonde hair and steel blue eyes and looked nothing like Andromeda yet Hermione knew instantly who this child was. Teddy Lupin looked both like his father and his mother. His big eyes looked up to the stranger standing outside his door and Hermione could not help but smile.

"Hermione," Andromeda breathed and then there were hurried footsteps in the hall and Narcissa appeared from the living room. Her dark brown eyes widened when she saw the young woman standing outside, covered in mud and she brushed past Andromeda to help her inside. Teddy flung himself at Narcissa's legs, whether as protection from the unknown stranger or merely an act of love, but quickly stepped back inside, safe with his grandmother, when Narcissa reached Hermione.

"You foolish girl," Narcissa whispered as she carefully wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders and guided her into the cottage. The warmth was comforting and as Hermione made her way through into the living room she was reminded of one of the typical English countryside cottages she had spent so much time at with her parents when she was young. Old beams decorated the low ceiling and there was a large fireplace in the middle of the room. Orange flames were eating away at the large logs of wood.

Draco sat on the sofa, reading a book, and he looked up when Hermione walked in. Whether he knew she had run away from his mother earlier that night, Hermione didn't know but he stood up and gave her a heartfelt hug before sharing a look of understanding with his aunt and mother and invited Teddy to come with him to play with his magical train set upstairs. Hermione watched them walk away, Teddy's hair as bright blonde as Draco's. They walked hand in and a smile spread across his face.

"Teddy has taken a shine to Cissy and Draco," Andromeda said as she watched Hermione follow Draco and her grandson with her eyes. "He refuses to change his hair back to brown."

"Where have you been?" The urgency was detectable in Narcissa's voice and when Hermione turned to meet her eyes she could see how frightened she was. Instantly she felt guilty. She glanced at Andromeda, unsure how much the darker haired woman knew about her and Bellatrix and everything else that had happened. She sighed and suddenly she felt tired and all she wanted was to sleep.

"Perhaps it is better that we let her rest, Cissy," said Andromeda. She had seen Hermione stifle a yawn. She gestured back into the hall and went ahead. Hermione followed her up the stairs. It was dark upstairs and there, in the dim light falling through the window, she was once again reminded how much Andromeda looked like her sister. The resemblance was startling and Hermione found herself backing away from her, until she reached a wall and there was nowhere else to go.

Narcissa has followed her sister and Hermione up the stairs and looked at Hermione pressing herself against the wall. "I think I'll take it from here, Andy," she said slowly and Andromeda shot her younger sister a puzzled look. But Narcissa approached Hermione, took her hand and guided her to one of the bedrooms. "Hermione can sleep in my room tonight. I will sleep downstairs."

Upon closing the door she turned Hermione to face her and dark brown eyes found hazel. "What in Merlin's name were you thinking, running off like that? You're lucky I didn't send the whole Order out to find you…" Her voice trailed off. "They wouldn't have understood."

"Cissy," Hermione breathed and the older woman looked at her. "Something's wrong."

Narcissa arched an eyebrow. "You don't say."

Hermione shook her head. "I am serious, Narcissa! Something is very seriously wrong!"

Registering the fear in Hermione's voice, Narcissa's eyes narrowed. She scrutinized the younger woman's face. "What on Earth are you talking about?"

"I…" Hermione swallowed and her throat became painfully dry. "When I left, I went to the Forest of Dean. I spent time there with Harry and Ron when we were fighting Voldemort." Narcissa nodded in understanding. "Nobody ever knew where we were. They searched but never found us. But today someone found me. They knew I was there."

Narcissa looked at her in confusion. "They?"

"Your beloved husband," Hermione clarified herself and Narcissa looked horrified at the mention of Lucius. "He was there, waiting for me. Like he knew I was going there. It was one of the very few places nobody ever knew about. I thought I'd be safe there. But I was wrong. He said that we should never allow another person to see into our minds."

"Bellatrix."

"I don't know, Cissy. I don't know! Surely I would have known if she had…." Hermione began but her words died at the tip of her tongue. She shook her head and walked away from Narcissa. She reached the bed and stared at the plain white pillows. It was the last part of what Lucius Malfoy had said that bothered her most. "Lucius said the Dark Lord has a need for me."

"A need for you?" Narcissa repeated and walked up to Hermione. A tentative arm slipped around Hermione's waist and pulled her nearer, until she was resting against Narcissa's body. The other arm joined the first one, closing around Hermione's stomach. Narcissa's chin rested on Hermione's shoulder, her lips were but an inch from her ear. "Why would he have a need for you?"

Hermione broke free from Narcissa's touch and turned away. "I don't know". She paused. "I'd like to be alone, if you don't mind."

Narcissa nodded and backed out of the room, closing the door behind her. Once she was gone, Hermione spun around and rushed to the window. It slid upwards to open and her lungs eagerly sucked in the fresh air from outside. There was no more rain. In the distance a different sort of cloud began to gather. Snow clouds. Just like it had done the day Kingsley had first told her about all of this. It would be Christmas soon though Hermione could not think of a single reason to celebrate. She was about to close the window when the sound caught her eye. She heard it yet she could not see. It was only when the tiny stone hit her on the arm that she realised what the sound was. Someone was throwing pebbles.

She drew her wand from under her sleeve and aimed it at the world outside. The Fidelius Charm prevented anyone who wasn't a Secret Keeper from entering and Hermione suspected enchantments had been put in place to conceal the cottage from anyone who wasn't supposed to know its location. It reminded her of the night the Snatchers had walked by and they had been unable to see her whilst she was able to see them. And as she stared more intently into the darkness she discovered the black clad figure wandering around outside the garden gate, occasionally picking up stones and throwing them at the house without knowing what they were aiming at.

Hermione recognised Bellatrix immediately. Her pale face lit up now that she stepped into the dim silver moonlight. She knew that she could call from the raven haired witch but that she would never hear her. Instead of calling, she aimed her wand and whispered "Expecto Patronum". The silver otter leapt from her wand, out of the window and through the garden. It broke through the magical boundaries without problems and found Bellatrix, who had just picked up another stone but now turned around and looked directly at the window where Hermione stood.

"Resulting to Muggle methods," Hermione sighed as she watched Bellatrix stare at the house whilst rolling the pebbles in her hand. "How you must hate yourself right now."

She looked over her shoulder. Narcissa had gone back downstairs and she heard her talk to Andromeda. Hermione looked back at the window, stored her wand up her sleeve and carefully swung one of her legs over the window sill, followed by the next one. She was high from the ground and looked down at the flowerbeds underneath. She pushed herself off the window sill but not before whispering "Arresto Momentum". She came to a halt about five inches above the flowerbed and hovered there for a second or two before landing face first in Andromeda's roses. Hermione quickly sat up, glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one had heard her and then scrambled to her feet. She hurried across the neatly kept lawn to the gate and broke through the magical enchantments.

Bellatrix spun around when she heard the faint sound of magic disappearing and discovered the younger brunette appearing out of thin air. A smile spread across her face and she stalked over to Hermione. "Well, well, seems my memory served me right."

"I wonder who or what else your memory has been serving," Hermione sneered and Bellatrix looked momentarily taken aback. But then her hand slipped up and touched the younger woman's cheek. And Hermione rubbed her face against the palm of Bellatrix's hand. Comfort and solace at last.

"What do you want?" Hermione peered at Bellatrix through her eyelashes. "I thought you had left."

"Oh but I always come back," Bellatrix smiled and cocked her head. "That's what you want, isn't it? For me to come back?"

"Stop playing your sick games," Hermione raised her voice and Bellatrix's slim fingers quickly covered her lips. Hermione fell silent and allowed the raven haired Death Eater to kiss her. She tasted of poison, of betrayal, and yet she gave in. Hermione's fingers ran through Bellatrix's black curls, down her back. Bellatrix's hands trailed down Hermione's arms before slipping up the sides of her waist. The kiss grew in intensity and passion and their bodies crashed together, almost tumbling to the ground.

When they broke apart they were both panting. Bellatrix rested her forehead against Hermione's. "You have to come with me."

"Why?"

"Because nothing is what it seemed."


	19. The Lost Child

**Chapter 19**

She carefully knocked on the bedroom door and listened. She heard nothing on the other side and she thought for a moment that perhaps Hermione was asleep. Her fingers closed around the door handle and she pushed it down before opening the door. She stepped inside, slowly, and the first thing she felt was the cold. The wind pulled at her hair and she turned to face the window. It was wide open, the white curtains danced in the wind. A fine layer of white snow had accumulated on the windowsill and the carpet. Frost covered the window. Her eyes were drawn to the bed. It was empty. It had not been slept in. The room was silent and Narcissa hurried across to the window and stared outside, into the darkness. The bitter cold winter wind took her breath away and a single tear fell from her eye, into the snow under her fingers.

"ANDY!" she cried in despair and hurried footsteps made their way up the stairs and a few seconds later Andromeda appeared in the bedroom door. Realising it was empty apart from Narcissa she too made her way across the room and stared out into the dark night.

"Why would she leave?" she whispered softly and watched as the snowflakes fell from the ink black sky. A crystal white blanket had begun to cover the lawn and her flowers. Intense dark eyes found Narcissa and there was an expression of horror on her face. "Do you think she knows? Where is she, Cissy?"

"She doesn't know" Narcissa answered slowly. The secret was only known to a few. Hermione had yet to be told. "Not yet…" Her voice trailed off and she gazed out of the window, towards the white fence. She imagined the young brunette walking off through the snow, into the darkness. "But I think I know where she is. Let's just hope that before the night is out, she finds her way back"

~()~

She had learnt not to trust the beauty of anything anymore. Yet the white crystals under her feet and the tender snowflakes in the palm of her hand seemed just that; beautiful. She watched them fall, watched them cover the grounds under a beautiful, sparkling blanket of pureness. Snow rested on the branches of the trees, erasing some of the haunting barren scenery. She looked up to the sky, felt the cold crystals land on her skin before they melted on her hot flesh and slipped down her cheeks like tears. The snowflakes entangled in her hair, leaving it damp and overly curly. Tiny crystals stuck to her eyelashes; those same eyelashes through which she peered at the raven haired woman standing a few steps away from her. Bellatrix was examining the snow on her boots as if she had never seen anything like it before. Were it not that Hermione knew what Bellatrix was, she would have found it endearing.

"Why did you bring me here?"

Hogwarts lay behind them, proudly on top of the cliffs. Thousands of golden lights flickered behind its countless windows and snow covered its roofs. Against the black backdrop it looked as magical and enchanting as it had done while Hermione had been a student. It felt like a lifetime ago. The castle had been rebuilt after the war, restored to its former glory. The water of the Black Lake had begun to freeze over and Hermione looked at the female Death Eater standing at the water edge, gazing at her own twisted reflection.

"I hear you had the misfortune of running into my brainless brother-in-law" Bellatrix said without turning around and Hermione felt a shiver creep down her spine. Bellatrix apparently knew more than she was leading on. Slowly the dark haired witch turned around and their eyes met. "I hear you left him empty handed…"

"I'd say you are quite well informed" Hermione said through gritted teeth and watched as Bellatrix slowly strode towards her. To be here, together, not far from the castle that had once been home to both of them, felt wrong and right at the same time. It was where their lives had ended, that same night. Where history had been made and changed. Hermione took a deep breath and Bellatrix's erotic perfume prickled her nose, causing her stomach to twist. She reached out a hand but let it drop to her side when Bellatrix did not accept it. "I wish I was as well informed. What in Merlin's name is going on?"

"What did he tell you?" Bellatrix hissed, suddenly closing the distance between her and Hermione. For a moment it was like being back at Malfoy Manor, staring back into black blazing eyes. She was so close Hermione could feel her breath on her skin, causing her heart to pound faster in her chest. Bellatrix's lips were almost pressing against her own. Hermione bit down on her lip, forcing herself not to lean forward and kiss her lover. "_What_ did he tell you?"

Hermione swallowed. "That the Dark Lord has a need for me…"

Bellatrix searched her face, looking for a trace of a lie. But she did not find it and she slowly backed away. Hermione felt cold at the loss of closeness and longingly she stood up and followed the dark witch to the water's edge. They stood side by side, staring at their reflections. Snow entangled in their hair and Hermione searched for Bellatrix's hand.

"The Dark Lord has a secret" spoke Bellatrix slowly and she cast Hermione a sideways glance. A twisted smirk lingered on her ruby red lips and even in the darkness of the night her black eyes glistened with a dark desire. "A secret he doesn't want the world to know. Only a few were trusted…"

Hermione couldn't suppress a smirk. "He trusted Lucius? Surely even the Dark Lord learns from his mistakes?" There was sarcasm in her voice and she turned to look at Bellatrix. "Do you know?" When the raven haired Death Eater didn't answer Hermione drew her own conclusions. "You do know, don't you? When were you going to tell me? When I am about to die? Or maybe never?"

"You don't need to know…"

"Yeah right. Because that is exactly the reason you sought me out" Hermione answered spitefully and now Bellatrix looked at her. It was in this moment that Hermione completely forgot what this woman was, what she had done, and the blood that would forever stain her hands. Blood that had already transferred onto her own. She looked at her, seeing her for the first time as a human being instead of the monster she had become. "You know something and it is why you came for me. Which is it, Bella? Are you preparing me to die or are you protecting me?"

"You are foolish to think I care _mudblood" _Bellatrix said harshly and before Hermione could blink her hand had shot up and she slapped Hermione across her cheek. "I am merely doing what is expected of me"

"Expected of you by whom?" Hermione asked as the tears stung behind her eyes. She covered her cheek, feeling the bruise begin to form under her fingers. Through her burning tears she looked at the woman who had destroyed everything she had held most dear. She had given up everything for her, betrayed her friends for her, and betrayed herself. And yet Bellatrix betrayed her. It lay in her nature. She did not lie when she said she felt nothing. "Who do you answer to, Bella? You have lied to the Dark Lord. I know you have. You did not tell him where I was. Your sister told me….You_ lied_ to him!"

Bellatrix rose to her full figure and drew her wand from her sleeve. Hermione felt herself stiffen up, ready to take on the curse whenever it came. But Bellatrix simply aimed her wand at the lake and made blood red flower petals appear out of thin air. They slowly fell down onto the water's surface and there they floated, like blood red tears that would never fade. "Sometimes lies serve a greater good"

"He already killed Harry!" Hermione suddenly cried and the desperation with which she spoke even touched the emotionless Death Eater as Bellatrix slowly turned around and looked at Hermione from head to toe. "What does he need me for? What has changed? He has the whole world! There is nothing left in his way, nothing that can change the outcome of all of this! There is _nothing_…!"

Bellatrix cocked her head and smiled deviously. "Even nothing can be something…"

"Whoever taught you to be cryptic because frankly, you suck!" Hermione snapped and Bellatrix cackled. The sound of her laughter brought back all the tormenting memories from Hermione's past. Her hidden secrets, the nights of guilt where she touched herself, climaxing as the woman's name lingered on her lips like an endless secret. It brought back the years she had spent imprisoned inside herself, trapped within the memories. And it sparked the desire, burning deep in the pit of her stomach. She hated Bellatrix. She hated her with every cell of her body. And yet she still loved her more.

A dark look spread across Bellatrix's face and she pulled back her sleeve, revealing the pulsating Dark Mark on her forearm. Hermione looked at in disgust, even though she had caressed the same tattoo during the moments their bodies had been entangled in a naked embrace. Bellatrix looked at her and before she disappeared she pulled Hermione into a bruising kiss, her teeth sinking down into her lips and drawing blood. When they parted Hermione was reminded how much it hurt to love Bellatrix and Bellatrix Dissaparated with a taste of blood lingering on the tip of her tongue. Long after she was gone Hermione watched the flower petal on the black water surface whilst more snow fell. The world seemed different here. Everything had changed. And it would change again.

~()~

Walking up the path leading towards the castle Hermione found herself looking around. From the darkness the ghosts came to haunt her; reliving the Battle that had took place her six years ago. As she walked she could still smell the smoke and feel the heat of the fire. The desperation filled the air again and the fear she had felt back then crept back up on her. With every step her heart pounded louder and faster in her chest and when she reached the large metal gates that provided entrance to the Hogwarts grounds, she held still. She drew her wand, raised it to eye level and allowed the gate they detected the magic from her wand. It recognised her and slowly they swung open, revealing the grounds of the only place where she had ever truly felt at home.

She found her way to the castle entrance blindly and the large oak front doors revealed the familiar entrance hall. It had been years since she had been here. She had come back after the war, finished her seventh year. She occasionally visited Minerva whenever they both had time but it had been too long. Making her way up the Grand Staircase Hermione made her way through familiar corridors, past paintings that whispered her name, together with the names of Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. Their whispers followed her all the way to the Headmistress office. It had been relocated after Dumbledore's death and no longer hid behind a large gargoyle and another staircase. It was now a marble entrance door on the seventh floor, the same floor as the Gryffindor common room. Hermione took a few deep breaths and raised her hand to knock the large golden phoenix but her hand came to a rest in mid-air when she heard voices coming from the other side of the door.

She recognised Narcissa's voice immediately and she felt a sting of guilt, knowing the older witch would have been terrified to have found the bedroom empty. The second voice belonged to Kingsley. He spoke with his usual deep, baritone voice. The third one was the Scottish lilt of Minerva McGonagall. It was her voice Hermione could hear clearest and she pictured her standing nearest to the door.

"With Potter dead, surely there is nothing else that can stand in his way?" said Minerva and Hermione could detect a hint of fear and sadness in her voice. She moved closer to the door, desperate to hear what else was said. "Why would the Dark Lord sent Lucius Malfoy to get Hermione?"

Hermione felt her heart sink in her chest. Narcissa had informed the Order about what had happened in the Forest of Dean. She wanted to feel angry with the older woman but she couldn't. She knew why Narcissa had done it. It was the same reason that made Hermione go back to Bellatrix again and again. Instead she knelt down to the floor and listened at the door. There were footsteps. Someone was walking around.

"The Dark Lord has a secret" spoke Narcissa's voice again and Hermione held her breath. How did Narcissa even know about the secret? She had not seen or spoken to anyone who could have told her. "A secret only very few were to know about..."

"What kind of secret?" said Kingsley, his voice deep and low. Hermione did not even have to strain herself to try and hear him. It was impossible not to.

Narcissa's voice was loud and clear. It sounded like she was standing right by the door. Hermione pictured her; her hands folded in her lap and her brown eyes filled with fear. The tone of her voice betrayed her worry. Her voice trembled as she spoke, every word accented by a hint of fear. The words that left Narcissa's lips and found their way into Hermione's eyes left her frozen inside.

"Many years ago Tom Riddle, or Lord Voldemort as he called himself by then, had a child. A child he never wanted or planned to have"

Minerva piped up and the disgust in her voice was obvious. "Voldemort actually had_ sex_ with another living human being?"

Even Hermione felt revolted at the mere thought of Voldemort sleeping with anyone, creating offspring in any form. Harry had told her that Voldemort had used magic to drastically change her appearance and by the time he came back to England he had looked like the snake like monster everyone knew. But once he had been an attractive young man, a copy of his Muggle father. If any of those features had remained whilst he had travelled the world seeking his followers, Hermione could somehow understand why a woman would fall for him. But the mere thought of a child sprung from Voldemort's seed left her sickened.

"Is that so hard to believe?" Narcissa asked and Hermione wondered for a moment if perhaps the witch had spent too much time in Voldemort's company in the past. For any living soul it was impossible to imagine anyone would be willing to share their bed with a monster.

"You want an honest answer?" Minerva retorted and her answer was followed by an uncomfortable silence. A chair was moved, its legs scraped across the hard wooden floor. Hermione automatically moved away from the door, expecting it to swing open. But it remained closed and she slowly moved back. The three people inside the office were oblivious to her presence. They believed their conversation to be secret.

Narcissa's voice filled the room again. It sounded like soft music to Hermione's ears, even if the message was haunting. "He had a child with a pure blood witch whilst travelling, gathering followers. She did not know who he was, what he was to become. He barely knew her name but she found him in England after the child was born, begging for him to marry her. She was tainted; disowned by her family as she had had a child with a man to whom she was not married. Tom Riddle killed her and another wizard took the child from its dead mother's arms. He had left it behind to die."

"Why did he not kill the child?" Minerva asked softly and Hermione could hear the sadness in her words. The thought of a baby, crying in its dead mother's arms whilst left behind in the night was heart breaking. "We know he failed to kill Harry as an infant because of Lily. But why did he leave this child alive, a child that was his own but he did not want?"

"I don't know" Narcissa answered in all honesty. As a mother the tale was even more upsetting. "Who is to say he did not try? Or perhaps he assumed the child would perish in the woods without its mother. A new born doesn't stand a chance surrounded by wolves and other creatures of the night. Of course then came the other wizard. The one who had followed him…"

"Who was he? The wizard?" asked Kingsley

"Can't you think of anyone?"

"Dumbledore"

Minerva had mentioned her old friend's name in a mere whisper and there was a silence. Hermione imagined them all looking up to the portrait of the former Headmaster, looking for confirmation of this story. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, a steady sign of life. Yet she felt strangely empty inside. The story about Tom Riddle's child was haunting and it left her feeling sad. The child had been left in its mother's arms to die. He had not cared for it at all. But why had he not simply killed the child?

"The old coot, yes" Narcissa answered after a few moments. The voice of the former Headmaster remained absent and Hermione wondered whether he was even in his portrait at all. Narcissa's voice carried on. "It was late 1979 or early 1980 when Voldemort first learnt of the prophecy about a child born at the end of July; born to defy him. In his fear and hatred he forgot about the child he had himself. Or perhaps he believed it to be dead. After all, he left its mother in a forest, the baby still cradled in her arms. The child was close to starvation when it was found"

"Whatever happened to it?" Minerva was breathless. "The baby? Whatever became of it?"

"It was allowed to grow up in the safety and comfort of a loving home. A secret within a secret. Upon realising the child had magical abilities like its mother and father, Dumbledore placed the child with a family unable to conceive a child of their own, as far away from its birth father as he could. There it would be safe. The child was never to know its true heritage, until the day came that it would prove vital…" Narcissa concluded her tale.

"Miss Black is quite right" spoke a fourth voice and from the other side of the door Hermione recognised the warm voice of Albus Dumbledore. Hearing him speak those words, or just the fact she heard him speak at all after all these years, made her eyes well up. Silent tears trickled down her cheeks as she knelt outside the door, listening in. "There was a child, Minerva. A child born from Voldemort's own seed. A seed associated with evil. And it is true that he forgot. All he knew in his life was the desire to get rid of Harry. But that very night, the night Harry destroyed him, he was faced with something. Something that sparked the memory he had forgotten. Just before he died Voldemort remembered the child he had…"

There was a gasp, followed by Minerva's whisper. "This, the moment Voldemort returned, was never about him. It was never about Harry"

"Never" answered Narcissa slowly but she was interrupted by Dumbledore's kind, gentle voice.

"I am sorry to interrupt you so rudely Miss Black, but it has been brought to my attention by one of the paintings outside your office that this conversation has been overheard, Minerva" spoke Albus and a chair was pushed backwards and footsteps approached across the hardwood floor.

Hermione leapt to her feet and backed away from the door, almost losing her balance in her urge to move. By the time it swung open and Minerva and Narcissa walked out into the corridor, she was gone. All they saw was a strand of brown hair disappear around the next corner and the sound of footsteps dying out in the night.

She rushed out of the castle, out through the oak front doors and back into the freezing cold night. The bitter wind stole her breath, leaving her panting by the time she reached the Black Lake. The snow was falling faster, with bigger flakes, and the grounds were covered in a crystal white blanket that was by now nearly three inches thick. But the beauty of it was gone, robbed by the story she had just heard. The knowledge of a child existing sickened her. Unexplained tears streamed down her face, burning her skin. Hermione fell down on her knees in the snow and covered her face in her hands. Her sobs were carried on by the wind until they vanished into thin air.

~()~

Narcissa and Minerva made their way through Hogwarts' corridors. Both witches knew their way and they walked in an amicable silence. Narcissa's dark eyes scanned her surroundings, looking at the paintings on the wall. Many had been destroyed in the battle and there was only so much magic could do to patch them back up. The faces of the people in the pictures were covered by cuts and scars, their paint destroyed and their frames were missing corners or sometimes there wasn't even a frame at all. The sound of their footsteps echoed off the walls as they walked. They were lost in their thoughts yet Narcissa suspected they shared the same thoughts, fears and worries.

When they reached the entrance doors they found them wide open, inviting in the snow and bitter cold wind. Narcissa froze in her steps and looked at Minerva. The Headmistress' green eyes met dark brown and the older woman looked at the youngest Black sister. "How much do you think she heard?"

Narcissa swallowed hard and stared out into the snowy night. She did not dare think about Hermione on her own out there, in the night, with the tales she heard tonight spinning in her head. Tired dark brown eyes looked back at Minerva. "Too much for her to be left alone. I have to find her, talk to her… If it is not too late to reason with her…" She watched the snowflakes land at her feet. _If she hasn't run away from me already. _

Minerva placed a hand on Narcissa's arm just before the younger witch stepped out into the night. Her voice was laced with worry. "This is what I think it is, isn't it? About the Dark Lord…"

Narcissa nodded slowly and the first snowflakes melted on her cheeks. "Yes, Minerva. The Dark Lord did not come back for Harry. He came back for Hermione."

~()~

She found her kneeling in the snow, crying. Her soft sobs were carried to her by the wind and Narcissa felt her heart break as she approached the Black Lake. Hermione did not hear her come nearer, nor did she look up when the older woman walked through the snow to comfort her. Not until Narcissa placed a warm hand on Hermione's shoulder and brushed away the snowflakes in her hair did the young brunette looked up. Their eyes met and Narcissa realised she was too late.

"How did you know?" Hermione demanded angrily and brushed her tears from her cheeks. "Bellatrix said only a selected few knew; only those whom the Dark Lord trusted the most. WHO TOLD YOU?"

"You forget that until that night you took me to the Burrow, my husband still trusted me" Narcissa answered slowly and Hermione's eyes widened at the mention of the blonde haired Death Eater. "Lucius always shared the Dark Lord's plans, without the Dark Lord's knowledge. It was how I learnt Draco was supposed to kill Dumbledore all those years ago. He would never have shared it with me, but my foolish husband did. He shared this tale with me, told the truth behind the lies…"

"So you knew all along…" Hermione said on an accusing tone. "You knew all along there was something else going on! All those nights we sat around talking about what we were going to do next, about what Voldemort could possibly want, you said you didn't know! You let Harry go and…"

"We all believed it was about Harry, Hermione" answered Narcissa slowly and she looked up when there was a faint popping noise. Someone else had arrived. Both witches drew their wand and spun around. From the hills, Bellatrix came walking down through the snow. Her black hair and black dress were a stark contract against the pure white ground. A dark look flickered in her eyes and Hermione felt her heart race faster as the raven haired Death Eater approached.

"Well well well" said Bellatrix in a mocking singsong voice when she reached Narcissa. She rolled her wand through her fingers. "Look what we have here… if it isn't my traitor sister" A wicked grin spread across her face followed by a disturbing cackle that echoed through the snowy night. "Hello, _Narcissa_"

"Hello Bellatrix" answered Narcissa through clenched teeth and resisted stepping in between Bellatrix and Hermione. The young brunette's eyes were fixed on the raven haired woman in front of her. A look of longing and lust flickered in her hazel eyes.

"Have you told her yet?" mocked Bellatrix and walked over to Hermione. A long nail trailed down the younger woman's arm and she watched how her sister's eyes followed her touch. Her arm then slipped around Hermione's waist and she pulled her nearer, planting a kiss in the side of her neck. Hermione's eyes fluttered shut and she missed the pained look in Narcissa's eyes when she watched Bellatrix kiss her. Bellatrix's voice was a whisper, her lips still hovering over Hermione's skin. "Have you told her what she is, Cissy?"

"Bella, no…" Narcissa pleaded desperately and Hermione's eyes snapped open. In horror she stared at Narcissa, her body still securely placed against Bellatrix's. She could feel the proud swell of the older woman's breasts sin her back and the sensation of her hand caressing her arm sent electricity down into her very core. She began to breath faster and her heart pounded in her chest.

Hermione's hazel eyes found Narcissa's brown. "What is she talking about, Cissy?"

"Oh, so she hasn't told you…" Bellatrix lisped and nipped at Hermione's earlobe. The tormented expression on her sister's face was amusing her and she chuckled. "She hasn't shared the true secret. The one you already know, deep down inside, after everything you heard tonight…" Hermione did not ask how Bellatrix knew, how she had even managed to get inside the castle. "You know it, Hermione. All you have to do is admit it to yourself…"

"Stop!" Narcissa cried and a lonely tear seeped through her eyelashes down her cheek. She aimed her wand and Bellatrix's fine shaped eyebrow shot up as if to question her. Narcissa remained resolute. There was not a trace of doubt. "You know I would…"

Bellatrix drew her own wand and pushed Hermione aside as if she were a ragdoll. The brunette staggered before landing on her hands and knees and she looked at the two sisters facing each other. She crawled back to her feet and stepped between them, raising her hands. She looked from Narcissa to Bellatrix and back and drew her own wand.

"One of you had better tell me the truth…" she said, aiming her wand at Bellatrix before flicking it in Narcissa's direction. Both witches looked at her, stunned. It was Bellatrix who laughed. Narcissa stood frozen. "And you had better believe that I would too…"

"My sister told you the tale of a child, born from the Dark Lord's seed. A child left to die in the arms of its mother before being taken and placed to grow up with a family who had remained childless" Bellatrix said and Narcissa shot her a pleading look but the dark haired witch ignored her sister's desperation. "A child with magical abilities who knew nothing about the blood in its veins. A child that grew up and intended to live a life without dangers, fears or knowledge of its origin. A secret that was never to be told until the dawn of the day their life would be threatened. That dawn is here, Hermione…"

Hermione cocked her head in confusion. The words burnt on her lips as they slipped off her tongue. "What are you saying, Bellatrix?"

"The child, my love" whispered Bellatrix and her lips curled up into a smile that was a sick mixture of amusement and devotion "…is you…"


	20. When I Set You Free

**A/N: **I don't think many of us saw this coming, including me. I always told myself I would never write some of the cliché plots but suddenly, here I am. I am not sure whether I should be proud or disgusted that my brain decided to do this to me. I always had a few restrictions when it came to writing things (or pairings) and the "daughter" plot was one of them. And then suddenly it was born in my brain. It had been lingering there for a while, during this story. Like a slumber. But now it's fully awake and crying and screaming (like a new born infant) and I am not sure whether I applaud my own creativity or not. I have not had insecurities about any of my plots for quite some time but this plot now has me doubting myself. I am so appreciative of you guys saying you love this twist. It made me feel so much better! Love, always. ~Cissy

ps. can we now reach the 200 reviews please? ;-)

* * *

**Chapter 20**

_All I know is that you love me...in my dreams.__  
~Unknown_

It was as if the world had ended. She stood frozen, between the two sisters, her wand aimed at her lover's heart. No one spoke. The words that had just left the dark witch's lips echoed through her mind. _The child __is you. _Her heart pounded in her head and the bile rose in the back of her throat. Heaving, she fell to her knees and her stomach emptied itself onto the pure white snow. Burning tears lashed against her skin and she wept in desperation. The pain of her soul being ripped apart rushed through her and she flinched when cold hands found their way into the back of her neck, followed the line of her shoulders and gently pulled her up into a seated position. And she sat, not looking at who cradled her in their arms and merely cried. There was a faint popping noise and then they were alone. Snow still fell, flakes entangled in their hair and Hermione rested her head on Narcissa's shoulder. Her tears were hot against the older witch's skin and Narcissa cradled her like one would cradle a lover. She rocked her gently whilst sitting on her knees in the snow, silent tears finding their path down her cheeks before seeping into the crystal white snow.

"You were never to know," Narcissa whispered softly into Hermione's ear. "Dumbledore never told a single soul about your existence, Hermione. It was a secret between him and the Dark Lord and neither was aware the other knew. Until that night that Harry destroyed Voldemort, he believed you to be dead. But when he saw you, in the crowd, he knew who and what you were. In the final seconds before his death he saw the daughter he had left to die standing at the side of the boy who was going to kill him."

Hermione looked up but her tears left her unable to speak. Narcissa carefully helped her up onto her feet, keeping her close to her, and whilst securely wrapped up in the older witch's arms, they Dissaparated and reappeared outside the Burrow. Hermione looked at it and fear crept up on her. She could not be here; not with what she had learnt tonight. She did not belong here anymore. She froze in her tracks and Narcissa looked at her, lifting up her chin with two fingers. A delicate smile lingered on her lips.

"It's all right," she said softly. "Minerva went ahead and has shared the story with them. By now they know."

"It will never be all right," Hermione answered with all the strength she could muster. She stared at the Weasley home; a place that had always provided safety and shelter. Mrs Weasley had been kind to her, even when she abandoned Ron. How could they ever look at her the same way again knowing what they knew now? That she was the seed of pure evil? That all of this had been because of her? But as the thought crossed her mind she was suddenly reminded that this was how Harry had felt when he had seen his friends, his loved ones, dead in the Great Hall. She didn't know whether the thought was a comfort or torture.

Narcissa gently pushed the young brunette in the direction of the house. "Come".

When they walked into the kitchen Hermione could not bear making eye contact with anyone. She stared at the floor, her arms wrapped around herself. The tracks of her tears were still clearly visible on her pale skin and her heart hammered against her ribcage in fear. She felt sick and disgusted. For a few moments there was a deafening silence but then someone stood up. Hermione did not dare look who it was. But they walked up to her, slowly. Automatically she braced herself for pain, for judgment. But it never came. Instead, two gentle arms were wrapped around her and she found herself pressed against Molly Weasley's chest in a hug only a mother could give a child. And there Hermione wept again.

When she finally found the strength to look up she found all of them standing around her. And their looks did not reflect pity or judgment or hatred but kindness and understanding. Ginny stood behind her mother and now that Molly let go, it was her who rushed over to Hermione and enveloped her into her arms. Her large baby bump was getting in the way of their hug and Hermione would swear she could feel something move against her for just a moment, but they hugged each other like old friends with renewed love and understanding. When they broke apart Hermione could see in Ginny's eyes she had forgiven her, even if she herself had not.

"Let's get some tea going, shall we?" said Molly and Andromeda quickly offered to help. The two witches went about summoning mugs from all around the house and from the pantry a large Victoria sponge cake appeared. A large knife cut it into equal pieces before whizzing around the kitchen and prodding against the visitor's faces just as long until they took it from the air. Hermione held her piece of cake in her hand but felt no need to eat it. Her stomach twisted at the mere thought of food.

Ten minutes later they were all sitting around the fire in the living room. Arthur had summoned chairs from the dining area, as there were hardly enough seats for all of them. Narcissa and Andromeda sat side by side. Narcissa in the armchair and Andromeda on the armrest. Ginny and Angelina sat on the sofa, with Molly perched between them. Molly's protective hand rested on Ginny's prominent baby bump. Arthur, Kingsley, George and Draco sat on kitchen chairs and Minerva had made her own chair appear out of thin air. Xenophillius Lovegood and Luna sat on the floor in front of the sofa, their legs pulled up to their chins. Luna's dad looked uncomfortable, whereas Luna seemed quite at ease. Hermione sat on the ground, in front of the fire, and stared into the flames.

"This was never about Harry," she said softly and the sound of her voice made people look at her. Up till that moment they had all been lost in their own thoughts and feelings. "We all believed it was about him."

"As per usual Potter came to a conclusion without knowing the full facts," Draco said and when people shot him questioning looks his eyes narrowed. "What? I am not saying anything we haven't all thought at least once since finding out the truth! He assumed the Dark Lord had returned for him. We all did. Because, as far as we knew, it had always been Harry."

"He wanted the boy. He killed him!" Andromeda said and Hermione shared a look with Narcissa. Only they knew the truth about Bellatrix. Narcissa had not shared her secret. "He even exchanged him for his family. If it was not Harry he wanted, then why go through all of that? Hermione was right there, in front of him." Her voice trailed off but everyone knew what she had been about to say. _He could have killed her there and then. _

"Yes," answered Minerva slowly and looked at Hermione. The young woman looked broken. The horror of what had happened tonight was clearly visible in her eyes. Minerva did not dare think about the thought and feelings currently dwelling in Hermione's heart. "But no person is as vulnerable as those who have nothing left to lose."

"Because there is no saying what they will do," Hermione finished Minerva's sentence weakly and swallowed. She could taste her own tears in the back of her throat. "He killed Harry, and had Ron killed, to break me. To leave me feeling disconnected from everybody else. To make me believe I was alone." Her voice trailed off and around her people shared looks of understanding. "It is what happened during Harry in our fifth year. He wanted him to feel abandoned and alone."

"Because if it's just you on your own, you're not as much of a threat," said Luna in a dreamy voice and she looked at Hermione. Their gazes briefly locked. "It is what I told Harry back then."

"When did Voldemort learn the truth about Hermione?" asked Kingsley.

"The night he died," answered Minerva. "I spoke to Albus before I left. He believes that in the seconds before his demise, Voldemort saw Hermione and recognised her. Albus pointed me to a picture tonight, after Narcissa and Kingsley had left. He had stored it in one of his books." A hand slipped in the pocket of her robe and pulled out an old picture that looked like it had been folded and unfolded many times. She handed it to Hermione. "It is clear to see how he would have known she was his child."

"I look just like her," Hermione breathed as she stared the woman's face in the picture. She was young, no older than eighteen, with thick brown curls and hazel eyes. She tried to smile but it seemed too painful. The look in her eyes was empty, hollow. The eyes of someone who had suffered. She was dressed in expensive robes and clearly came from wealth. Back then all pure blood families were still wealthy. It would have been what attracted Tom Riddle to her in the first place. It was as if she was looking into a mirror of the past and saw her own face reflect back at her. Tears welled up behind her eyes and she went to give the picture back to Minerva.

"Albus told me you should keep it," Minerva said softly, having seen the tears in Hermione's eyes. "She is perhaps the one good thing about this story, Hermione."

"Dumbledore knew all along!" Suddenly the anger burst out of her. All the emotions she had tried to contain in the last few days, weeks, months, just reached the surface and she exploded. Her voice was loud and her words laced with venom. "He knew when he saw me walk through the doors of Hogwarts the first time! He knew, every time Harry faced Voldemort! But he never said a word. He never once…"

"Harry always faced Voldemort alone, Hermione. When he went to search for the Philosopher's stone, when he was down in the Chamber of Secrets or at the cemetery when Voldemort returned. Even in the Department of Mysteries it was just Harry and Voldemort. He never once saw you, Hermione. Not until that fateful night at Hogwarts. The Death Eaters knew you as Harry's mudblood friend but few knew what you looked like and back then they did not know about the Dark Lord's secret." Minerva said softly. She felt saddened because of Hermione's turmoil.

"But even as we fought him, when we tried to destroy the Horcruxes, Dumbledore knew what I was! What I am," Hermione said desperately. The words hurt as they left her lips and they echoed around the room for a few seconds, imprinting themselves in the brains of those present here tonight. "He knew Voldemort is my father!"

"The secret was to be kept until the day your life was threatened. Up till now, it had always been Harry who was in mortal danger. The day the Dark Lord would realise you are his daughter, everything would change. At that moment, and only at that moment, were you to be told about your true heritage," said Minerva slowly. "Voldemort told his Death Eaters he had a need for you as soon as he returned. Lucius told Narcissa." She paused. "And Narcissa told us."

"_After _Ron and Harry died!" Hermione snapped and Narcissa's face was drained from its colour. "If she had said something straight away, they would perhaps still be alive! But she waited! She waited and watched them die!" Her blazing hazel eyes found Narcissa's. "So many chances, Cissy, and you never used a single one of them!"

"It wasn't my decision to tell you," Narcissa said slowly and Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"If Bellatrix had not told me the truth tonight you would have continued to lie to me, wouldn't you? You would have continued to lie to all of us?"

"Hermione…."

But she did not listen. Hermione leapt to her feet and her eyes pierced into Narcissa's. Her chest was heaving and the anger flickered intensely in her eyes. The words left her mouth without thinking. "You warned me about Bellatrix. You told me.." She paused for a moment and straightened her spine. "You are no better than your sister, Cissy. At least she had the good grace to tell me the truth! All you have done is lie to me!"

"NO!"

Narcissa's smothered cry was heart breaking to all who heard it and she had stood up, knocking over the mug of tea she had so carefully placed on the arm rest. The porcelain shattered on the old wooden floor and the liquid seeped between the floorboards. She stood across Hermione, their eyes finally finding each other, and it was clear how much Hermione's words had hurt her. Even now, in this darkest hour, Hermione still chose her sister over her. Because Narcissa had chosen to keep Hermione safe, to protect her. And because of that she was about to lose her.

"All of it," Hermione whispered through blinding tears. "All of it was a lie!"

"Hermione," Narcissa pleaded and took a step in her direction but the brunette backed away from her, her eyes widened with fright and anger. "You don't understand!"

"Hermione, just listen to her," said Molly, who looked from Narcissa to Hermione and back. Tears glistened in her eyes. "She will have had her reasons not to tell you! You were safer not knowing! Minerva told us tonight, only because you found out! But they never wanted you to know!" Her voice changed. "But _she_ told you anyway."

_Bellatrix._

Hermione felt her heart freeze in her chest and her eyes fluttered shut for a moment. The face of the raven haired Death Eater flooded back into her mind. It lay imprinted inside of her, permanently burnt into her soul. She could taste her own her lips, feel her hot breath against her skin. Angry tears began to trickle through her eyelashes, down her cheeks, as she remembered Bellatrix kissing her, touching her. She had whispered lies into her ears. She had touched her, cradled her; protected her.

"So where do we go from here?" asked Andromeda softly and her voice snapped Hermione out of her musings. Her hazel eyes found the woman who looked so much like her lover. Andromeda looked at Hermione with desperation in her eyes and guilt washed over Hermione. She had lied to all of them. Just like Narcissa had lied to her.

"There is nowhere else to go," answered Hermione firmly and glanced at Narcissa. She stood in the middle of the room, a few steps away from her. Desperate to be nearer to her, desperate for her not to leave her. But Hermione averted her gaze. "Voldemort knows what I am. I know what I am. We know he killed Harry and Ron because he wanted me weakened. Well, he got me. Because I am broken. I have stood by and watched my friends die because of what I am. Because of what you allowed me to become!" She sent an accusing look at Minerva. "Dumbledore should have told you! How was he ever going to watch over me after he died? Did he believe it all ended that night?"

Minerva was lost for words and could not find an answer to give her. She merely looked at the young woman in defeat. Her eyes said how sorry she was but Hermione did not see it. She did not want to see it. She wanted them to know, to feel, how she felt. How it felt to be betrayed. And yet she had betrayed them all. She had lied to them like they had lied to her. She had her own secrets and at this moment she did not even know which one was more devastating. Knowing she was the Dark Lord's daughter or being in love with Bellatrix.

Narcissa's tear filled voice cut through the silence. "He will come for you."

Hermione's blazing eyes found those of the woman who had confessed to loving her. Who loved her like Bellatrix did not love her. And yet she did not love her back. They were so alike, even more so in this moment and still they were worlds apart. She swallowed hard and her voice was harsh, emotionless. "Then I will wait for him."

She turned around and made her way out of the living room and into the kitchen and to the front door. Someone followed her and when she turned around in the open door she found Narcissa standing behind her. Intense dark eyes searched for her own and reluctantly Hermione met her gaze. Narcissa looked broken, devastated.

"You know why I didn't tell you," Narcissa said softly. "You know why I couldn't."

Hermione cracked a sarcastic smile. "It didn't stop Bellatrix from doing it."

"Bellatrix's motives are different from mine, Hermione. I have warned you about my sister's poison many times and yet you continue to ignore me. I know what she has made you feel, what she has made you believe. And even more than that, I understand. But she has been part of this from the beginning. She knew, even before I did, what you were. What his intentions were," said Narcissa. She sounded hopeful.

"Yet she chose to protect me," Hermione reminded her. "She chose to stay with me. She saved me that night at MacNair Castle. She rescued me out of that burning building, brought me to safety. She did not hand me over to the Dark Lord when he took Harry. Perhaps it was her who persuaded him to murder my friends as to weaken me. The longer it took for him to get to me, the more time she had to protect me."

"Listen to yourself!" Narcissa pleaded and tears welled up in her eyes. She took a step in the brunette's direction but Hermione moved backwards, out of the door and into the night. "You are defending the woman who tortured you! Who would have let you die if it had not been for your friends breaking free from the dungeon."

"And I don't remember _you_ doing anything to stop her!"

It had been said. The one accusation Hermione knew would break Narcissa's heart. She watched the look in the older woman's eyes changes. Narcissa fell apart before her eyes as the guilt she had buried so deep inside found its way out. It poured out of her with her tears, it reflected in the depths of her eyes. And yet she still looked at Hermione.

"My sister doesn't love you, Hermione."

Hermione bit down on her lip so hard she tasted her own blood. The same blood Bellatrix had tasted. "And neither do you. You have made yourself believe that you do, Narcissa, so you do not have to face the guilt over what happened at Malfoy Manor that day. You have made yourself believe you love me because it is the only way you can look at me, and yourself, and not be torn apart. Bellatrix lies, I know, but at least she doesn't pretend to be something she isn't."

With those words she disappeared in the night and with a faint pop she Dissaparated. Narcissa was left to stare out into the darkness, with tears streaming down her face, and the shards of her broken heart.

~()~

"My Lord," spoke Lucius softly and he looked at his master sitting at the head of the wooden table in the drawing room. They were back at Malfoy Manor once more. Back where it had all begun. But as Lucius looked around the table and registered the absence of so many who had once been faithful, he was coldly reminded that times had changed. Very few had remained at their master's side. It was the only place left for him now. Like many others, Lucius also did not have anything left.

"Speak, Lucius," said the Dark Lord in his high pitched voice and made a hand gesture towards Lucius. To his right sat Bellatrix. She leant back in her chair, her arms folded across her stomach and there was an almost bored expression on her face. Her black eyes darted around the room, taking in every shadow in the room. Every so often she would glance at her Master, to meet his gaze. "What news have you got?"

"The girl knows, My Lord," spoke Lucius in a humble tone and he bent his head in shame. His grey eyes stared at the smooth surface of the table. "The secret was revealed to her earlier tonight."

"Who told her?" demanded the Dark Lord and the anger was obvious in his voice. His bony hands held the wand he had obtained after his resurrection and he rolled it through his fingers. The whiteness of his skin was a contrast against the darkness of the room. In the dim silver moonlight falling into the room he seemed almost see through. "WHO TOLD HER?"

"I don't know, My Lord," stammered Lucius and he looked up. The fear that had once possessed him when around the Dark Lord had long since faded. He no longer feared for his son and the anger he felt over his wife's betrayal was his fuel to prove himself.

Amicus Carrow and Rodolphus Lestrange sat a little bit further down the table. The latter sat as far away from his wife as he could. A marriage of convenience and not of love, they shared merely the same last name and their family's wealth and honour. A few other seats were taken by faces Lucius did not quite know. Faces of those loyal to the Dark Lord but never strong enough to publicly support him. Until now. Because so many others were dead. Outside the walls of Malfoy Manor many more awaited orders. They hid in forests and woods, castles and manors, towns and villages across the country. They were larger in numbers than Lucius had expected and larger in numbers than the Order ever knew.

Amicus Carrow sat up and leant casually across the table. "My Lord, we can find the girl". There was arrogance in his voice. Bellatrix's dark orbs flashed dangerously in his direction. "We can bring her to you and you can dispose of her."

"I admire your devotion, Amicus. I understand your need for revenge after the Order killed Alecto" said the Dark Lord and a pained expression filled the Death Eater's face. "But I am afraid my plans for the girl cannot be shared. It seems I…" He paused and his eyes wandered around the table as if too seek out the traitor amongst them. "…can only rely on my own trust. Bellatrix, where are they hiding her? Is she still in the company of your sister?"

"The last time I saw her, yes," answered Bellatrix with a blank expression and her eyes drifted to Lucius. "It seems my sister has grown rather fond of the girl."

The Dark Lord's fiery red eyes narrowed and he searched the face of the woman who was his most faithful. She had been at his side throughout all eternity, had done everything he asked. She had no conscience, felt no remorse. His snake like tongue slipped from his mouth. "What about you, Bellatrix? The girl…"

"She means nothing to me, My Lord," answered Bellatrix haughtily. "Nothing."

"I hear you have tainted her," spoke the Dark Lord and Bellatrix's dark eyes found his. For a brief moment she seemed confused but she regained her composure quickly. "I hear you left her scarred that night the Potter boy escaped from the Manor."

"Yes, My Lord," Bellatrix said and the images of her torturing Hermione flooded back into her mind. A wicked grin spread across her face but she turned to her master and pouted. "I ask for your forgiveness, My Lord. When she was here I was unaware of her true status, My Lord. If I had known I would never…"

Voldemort dismissed her words by raising a large hand and she felt silent instantly. She stared at Lucius from across the table and saw his discomfort over Narcissa and Hermione. She smiled to herself. She had never been fond of her brother-in-law. He had always been a coward, from the day he received the Mark. He had been a poor example to his son, a poor servant to his master and a poor wizard. She did not pity him. She_ hated_ him.

"Find her," said the Dark Lord and the raven haired Death Eater stood up from her chair, followed by Lucius, Amicus and Rodolphus. She had already turned her back on her master and was half way out of the room when his voice filled her ears again. And only her ears. He was in her head. None of the others could hear him. Automatically she froze.

_"Bring me my daughter, Bellatrix. I will rewa__rd you beyond your imagination.__" _She turned in the open door way and found her master staring at her. Their eyes connected across the distance of the room. Her pale face remained emotionless but deep down, in the pit of her stomach, something rumbled. _"Bring me my daughter and I will ma__ke your one sole wish come true.__"_


	21. The Memory Still Holds True

**Chapter 21**

The house was empty. The stripped walls, the open doors and the indentations in the carpet where the furniture had once been reminded her of what it had once looked like. Her old bedroom felt almost haunting as she walked through the door. The purple blue wallpaper had faded since the last time she was here. The carpet too. A thick layer of dust had accumulated in the window sill and across the floor. She walked towards the window, where her desk had once been, and turned to look at the wall where once the smiling faces of her friends had adorned the wall, right above her bed; so she could see their faces first thing when she woke up and remember them just before she fell asleep. It felt like a lifetime ago since she last stood between these walls and yet she could imagine it all. Her bed, the bookshelf where she had kept her magical study books next to her favourite Shakespeare play and other novels, the dark blue arm chair, the desk and the curtains and her bedside table with the white lamp she had hated when her mother showed it to her for the first time. She missed it now, that stupid lamp. She missed everything this room had once been. Her safety and her comfort; her home.

The pictures and the paintings were long gone. She had no idea where they had gone when she had left this house. With her parents probably, in a box shipped to Australia. Most of their belongings never made it back after they died. Not even Australia had been far enough to keep them safe from Voldemort's wrath. Their bodies had not been found until three days after the end of the war. It was hard to say when they had died. They rested side by side now, at the small cemetery down the street, by the small church. She only went once or twice. To see their names etched in stone for the rest of her lifetime was too cruel, to unforgiving. She could not bear being confronted by the guilt; she had failed them. She was their daughter and she had disappointed them.

Hermione let her eyes wander around her old, empty bedroom one last time before walking onto the landing. All the doors were open, revealing the empty rooms behind them. The bathroom, the pure white tiles now covered by a thin layer of grime. Her parents' bedroom, empty and forlorn. Gone was the bed in which she spent many nights as a little girl, seeking shelter from thunderstorms. Or the mornings with her parents, reading the Sunday papers and having tea and toast together. The guest bedroom had always been ready for any visitor to spend the night. No one ever came. No one ever would. The fourth bedroom had been her parents' office. The heavy wooden desk, the expensive computer and shelves and shelves of books and encyclopaedias; it was all gone. A sad sigh escaped from her throat as she began making her way back down the stairs and carefully she stepped into the living room. The house felt so empty she could barely even feel the ghosts of the past.

She sank down onto her knees, her wand dropped to the floor and clattered on the wooden floorboards. And there she sat, lost in thoughts and questions. Her parents had never told her she had been adopted. Why had they never told her the truth? She would have understood. She would not have resented them. More than anything she would have been grateful they have given her a second chance. They had cherished her, nurtured her, stuck plasters on grazed knees, helped her with her homework and even gave her the lecture about boyfriends and the protection she would need from a certain age. They had done everything parents were supposed to do. Apart from telling her the truth.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered through her tears and her broken voice carried on throughout the empty house. "You should have told me. I would have understood!"

The shattering of glass in the kitchen made her head whip around and Hermione leapt to her feet, grabbing her wand off the floor. Her heart pounded in her chest and she turned to the door leading to what had once been the dining room. She heard footsteps in the other room and her fingers closed tighter around her wand. She took a few tentative steps in the direction of the dining room and gasped when a figure emerged from the connecting kitchen and stood by the patio doors, looking outside. Thick black curls rained down the intruders back.

"Not bad for a Muggle dunghill I suppose," mused Bellatrix to herself and then she turned around. Her eyebrows shot up when she found Hermione in the dining room door way, her wand aimed directly at her chest. She licked her ruby lips and walked in the brunette's direction. Hermione's wand shot up higher. Her hand shook and Bellatrix smirked. "Well, well, seems finding you was easier than I thought. I had not expected to be lucky on the first guess…"

"What do you want?" Hermione demanded whilst stepping back as Bellatrix came nearer. "Why are you here?"

"I think we both know the answer to that, my love," Bellatrix said with a twisted grin and cocked her head. Her black orbs widened as she exposed her crooked teeth. "The Dark Lord needs you."

"Yeah well I told you before that he will just have to wait," Hermione said sharply and Bellatrix let out a gasp of surprise. "This is one family reunion I'd rather not take part in." She paused and Bellatrix's expression changed because of her defiance. "For the time being at least."

"What is it, my little pet," said Bellatrix in her mocking voice and she pouted almost playfully. "You don't want to play anymore?"

Hermione's wand moved quicker than Bellatrix could have imagined and the bloody gash appeared on her arm. Burgundy drops began to trickle down her fingers and dripped down on the wooden floor. For a moment the raven haired witch looked shocked, her ruby lips parted and her eyes wide open. But then the disturbed grin found its way back onto her face and she approached Hermione.

"You are not the only person who can hurt people, Bellatrix," Hermione hissed through clenched teeth and her wand shot up again. A second cut appeared on the older witch's arm and more blood began to seep down onto the floor. Bellatrix seemed oblivious to the blood or the pain.

"Go on," Bellatrix encouraged her and her dark eyes twinkled. "We both know it's in your_ blood_!"

At those words Hermione dropped her wand, looking horrified, and backed away from Bellatrix further. The dark witch followed her until there was nowhere left to go. Hermione stood pressed against the living room wall, her arms at her side, and her wand loosely between her fingers. Her chest was heaving and her hazel eyes connected with Bellatrix's black. The older witch looked hungry, passionate, as she scrutinized the younger woman's face. Her long nails began to climb up Hermione's arm, up to her collarbone and her shoulder before reaching the side of her neck. She pressed down on her pulse, feeling Hermione's heartbeat under her finger and then she smiled.

"Is this why you're interested in me?" breathed Hermione and she watched Bellatrix's lips come closer to hers. In her family home, trapped between a wall and Bellatrix's body. She could not fight her. Even now, in her darkest moments, she was still weakened by the Death Eater's presence. Bellatrix's erotic scent prickled her nose and sent a shot of electricity down into her core. Her body responded immediately. And Bellatrix knew. Hermione's voice was reduced to a whisper. "Is this why, Bellatrix? Because I am part of him?"

Bellatrix's burning lips caressed her jaw before carefully, slowly, making their way towards her own lips. And Hermione answered the kiss in desperation. Her hands entangled themselves in the other woman's hair whilst Bellatrix tucked impatiently at the button and zip of her jeans. Mere seconds later one hand had crept under her shirt, up along her stomach and had reached the swell of her breasts. Sharp nails clawed their way through her bra, across her nipple and scratched her skin. Bruising lips sucked down on her pulse, teeth sank down into her skin and Hermione felt her body overheat. Bellatrix's strong hands ripped the fabric away from her burning skin, revealing its tender beauty underneath. She stood naked in front of her and she knew the older woman could smell her arousal.

"Why, Bella?" Hermione breathed barely audibly and threw her head back in passion when two of Bellatrix's slender fingers entered her, finding their way easily through her slick, moist core. Hazel eyes widened before they fell shut and the words merely lingered on her lips. "Why?"

She tucked at Bellatrix's dress until the metallic buttons popped open and flew across the room. Black satin and velvet slipped down milky skin and soon they were both naked, lying entangled in a wicked embrace on the wooden floor. Hermione stared up at the woman on top of her and wrapped her legs securely around Bellatrix's waist, pressing her pulsating core firmer against her hand. Bellatrix's eyes flickered with lust and passion and for the first time she looked at her lover, at the brunette who lay underneath her. Hermione's hand slipped between their bodies, down Bellatrix's stomach and between her thighs. She slipped inside of her with ease, and their bodies rocked quicker and harder together. Hermione's teeth sank down into Bellatrix's shoulder whilst the raven haired nails dug painfully into Hermione's skin and drew blood.

"Tell… me… why…" Hermione whispered on the verge of her orgasm. She could feel Bellatrix tighten around her fingers and she paused, for a moment. A disappointed groan left Bellatrix's lips. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead, covered her skin, and sparkled like little diamonds on her upper lip. Black manes stuck to her face, her back. Their bodies were one but their souls were miles apart. Hermione held her hand still and desperate hazel eyes pierced into endless black orbs. "Tell…me…why…"

Bellatrix's warm lips found Hermione's ear whilst her thumb pressed down on her most sensitive spot. A moan of pleasure echoed through the room and Hermione threw her head back in blinded passion. Bellatrix's words were softly spoken yet cut through her soul. "Because only he can make my wish come true."

And with those words Bellatrix's lips crashed down onto Hermione's and her thrusts became increasingly more impatient. Hermione cried out into the other woman's kiss, tasted her on her lips, as she reached her orgasm and felt that at that same moment, Bellatrix's body collapsed and trembled. For a second Hermione would swear she could taste tears in their kiss but when her eyes snapped open she found Bellatrix staring at her, panting, but most definitely not crying.

"Your wish," Hermione whispered. Her words almost got lost in the violent racing of her heart and the fact that Bellatrix still hovered above her, staring down at her like a hunter stared at its prey. "I am your reward."

Bellatrix shifted her weight and stood up. For a few seconds Hermione was allowed to look at her in all her naked glory. The black curls were a sharp contrast against the delicate features of her porcelain skin. In the sunlight falling through the bay living room window Bellatrix almost seemed to glow. Hermione's eyes wandered down further, along the full shapes of her breasts and dark pink nipples, to her stomach lined with scars that told a tale of torment inside the Azkaban walls, down to the triangle between her legs, still glistening with her sex. By the time Hermione's eyes had snapped back up, Bellatrix had summoned her clothes and got dressed. Dark eyes looked down at the naked girl on the floor.

"You have a choice," said Bellatrix calmly and she extended a hand. "You come with me now or I will come for you later. Either way, my love, you shall have to leave them eventually. It is in your hands when that will be."

Hermione searched around for her clothes and made a feeble attempt to cover her naked body as the dark haired woman stalked across the empty living room. She clumsily staggered to her feet, slipped into her jeans without putting her knickers on and pulled her jumper over her head without her bra. On bare feet she walked across the cold wooden floor, towards Bellatrix who was now staring out of the living room window, out into the snowy streets outside. Hermione saw the Christmas decorations behind her neighbours' windows and a sharp sadness suddenly overwhelmed her.

She cast Bellatrix a sideways glance. In the winter sun she looked so young, so fragile. For a moment Hermione was able to forget the horrors this woman had committed. There was something delicate, something disturbingly peaceful, about standing side by side, looking at the snow. It seemed wrong. It was wrong. She took a sharp breath and the words left her lips before she could even think. "You lied to him, to the Dark Lord. You told him you didn't know where I was. You came to protect me, not to hand me over. Why, Bellatrix? You did not prepare me to die! You kept me safe!"

Bellatrix turned to look at the brunette at her side. Hermione saw the disgusted expression she had gotten so used to return in her eyes and Bellatrix shook her head. Damp ringlets danced before her eyes. The smell of sex still lingered in the air. Bellatrix's hand shot up but it did not come back down. It hovered in the air, between them. Bellatrix's ruby lips were slightly parted. "Kept you safe? How _dare_ you!"

"Is that why you're interested in me? Because I am a piece of him?" Hermione demanded and cocked her head. Anger flickered in her eyes. Bellatrix stared at her in pure hatred. "Because that way you could finally justify this sick attraction you felt for all this time? No longer did you have to be disgusted because your heart longed for a mudblood. No, you are allowed to care now."

"NO!" shrieked Bellatrix and unexpectedly her hand smacked down on Hermione's cheek. The blow was hard and sent the brunette staggering backwards before hitting her head on the wall. She slumped down to the ground, her vision blurred. Pain engulfed her and instantly she raised both her hands in protection in an attempt to shield her head. She heard Bellatrix's boots echo off the wooden floor as she walked up to her. The next thing, hands, so much softer than a mere few seconds ago, touched her face.

"You must not be foolish," cooed Bellatrix softly and ran her fingers through Hermione's hair. The twistedness of her love laced with violence left Hermione trembling and through her eyelashes she looked up at the woman who was her lover and her tormentor. Bellatrix had hurt her almost as many times as she had made love to her. "Listen to me. The Dark Lord…"

"Needs me. Yes, we figured that one out already and he has promised you something in return if you bring me to him," Hermione pushed Bellatrix away and stood up. The older woman looked at her, somewhat hurt at the rejection. Curiosity filled her eyes. Hermione looked at her, defiantly. "Well, whatever it is, Bellatrix, it had better be worth it because I have no intentions of coming with you quietly."

Bellatrix arched an eyebrow and a smirk spread across her face. She drew her wand from under her sleeve. "No one ever said you had to come quietly, my love. It can be as violent as you wish."

"We'll talk about that later," Hermione said, leaving Bellatrix startled. "You said I had a choice to come with you now or later…" She paused. "Leaving it till later means you are giving me a chance to talk to the Order. Why?"

Bellatrix's words were final. "Because I know you'll come with me eventually."

Hermione felt irritated by the dark witch's arrogance and folded her arms across her chest. "How can you be so certain of that?"

Bellatrix smiled. A smile that for once wasn't menacing or disdainful. It was the smile of someone who knew something Hermione didn't. A fine shaped black eyebrow shot up and dark eyes glistened. "Because I have seen you, Hermione Granger. Because I know what you are and what you feel." She began to turn on the spot but before she vanished her words echoed around the room. "You have until midnight. Meet me here when the moon is full. If you are not here, I will come and search for you. And I will find you."

She disappeared.

Hermione stared for a few more moments at the spot where Bellatrix had just stood but all there was left now was silence. She swallowed hard and brushed her fingertips along her jaw. It felt swollen and bruised where Bellatrix had hit her and she used her wand to place a Glamour Charm on herself. Reassured that she no longer looked like she had been beaten, Hermione walked out of the house that had once been her family home. Closing the front door behind it felt final and she began making her way down the short, paved path to the street. She had only just reached it when a voice called for her and she turned around to find one of her parents old neighbours walk up to her. Quickly she slipped her wand back up her sleeve and produced a fake smile. Enhanced by the Glamour Charm she looked radiant and bright.

"Oh Hermione, how lovely it is to see you again," said the woman. She was wearing an old woolly hat, a scarf and a coat that looked like it had been with her since the fifties. "After all these years." She pointed at the house. "It is still empty, you know, your parents' house. We were all devastated when we heard what had happened in Australia. What a tragic end, a car accident."

Hermione felt her heart sink in her chest and did her best to keep smiling. "Thank you, Mrs Emmerson."

"We all put some money together and got some flowers," said Mrs Emmerson and Hermione wondered whether she was about to cry. Her dark blue eyes swam with tears. "We were worried about you, Hermione. No one saw you again after the funeral." She eyed Hermione up like a grandmother would look at her grandchild and a comforting smile broke through. "You are looking well, lovely. Where do you live these days?"

"In London," Hermione answered quickly. It felt like a lifetime since she had last been at her apartment. "I work for a large company there."

Mrs Emmerson's gaze dropped to Hermione's gloveless hands and when she found no engagement or wedding ring she looked back up. "Are you here to visit relatives for Christmas?"

Hermione swallowed hard. "I…" She hesitated. "Actually, I came to look at the house. Like you said, it is still empty. I was considering buying it." She shot a longing glance at the house. "Well, maybe after the holidays are over. I really need to get going now. Still haven't finished my shopping, you see." She began to cross the street. "Merry Christmas, Mrs Emmerson."

"Merry Christmas, my dear," answered the old woman and she watched Hermione walk down the street, toward the small church at the end of the road and shook her head. Her words were intended for nobody else but herself. "Curious girl, I tell you. Curious."

~()~

Hermione stood outside the kissing gates of the small graveyard, her hands resting on the cold metal. Snow covered the gravestones, both old and new. Through the crystal blanket she could see the fresh flowers people had left behind. Others had long since died and were left to wither in the snow. Her eyes wandered around, too broken hearted to enter. Her parents' grave was in the back. She could only just about see it from here. Her parent's grave… She shook her head. They weren't her parents. Or were they? She lingered there for a few more moments, watching the snow glisten on the gravestones. She felt torn about where to go next. She had walked away from Narcissa, having hurt her more than she had ever imagined she could. Where could she go next? Where was there left to go?

She turned away from the cemetery and began walking along the snow covered streets, past brightly lit houses where Christmas decorations flickered in the windows, with Christmas trees in living rooms and families sitting together, enjoying the comfort and warmth of the holiday season. It felt like a lifetime ago since she had last been part of this. She had hated Christmas ever since her parents died and for the past few years she had been on her own Christmas day, with just a book, and she would stare at the clock waiting for the day to pass. Most days she would feel alone, but during Christmas she had always felt lonely. More snow began to fall, the flakes playfully entangling themselves in her hair. Today, like any Christmas before, was no exception to that loneliness.

She had little idea of time. It could have been minutes or hours that she spend walking. She had walked out of the village where she had grown up, along the canal and into the next village. The scenes had been the same wherever she went. The shops were closed for Christmas Eve and people celebrated in the safety and warmth of their homes. Occasionally she peered through the windows, longingly gazing at the comfort of a family life. Tears mixed with snowflakes on her cheeks as she walked and eventually she stopped. She had reached the village common, its fields normally green but now covered by snow and in the middle stood a large snowman the village children had made that afternoon. He stood as lonely as she did and she looked at it.

_I'm going to have to go back_ she thought to herself. _I can walk forever and still not get away far enough. _She closed her eyes and called up the image of The Burrow in her head. The she turned on the spot, Apparating away in the bitter cold winter wind. When she reopened her eyes she was standing mere steps from the Weasley home's front door and she ran through the snow and knocked. The door flew open a few seconds later, revealing Arthur Weasley. His face lit up when he saw Hermione and he quickly stepped aside, letting her in.

"We thought you'd run away," he said as he guided her into the warm kitchen. She shot him a sideways glance.

"I did," she answered and her voice trembled. "Is Narcissa here?"

"In the living room with Molly. They are wrapping up Christmas presents," answered Arthur and Hermione cast him a curious look. Wrapping Christmas, in the middle of a war when they had only just buried Ron and were about to bury Harry? Her legs felt heavy and she walked through the kitchen towards the living room and held still in the door way. Arthur had not been wrong. Narcissa and Molly sat on the sofa, surrounded by stacks of presents, Christmas paper, ribbons and bows and more glitter than Hermione had ever seen.

"Who's that, Arthur?" asked Molly and looked over her shoulder. She dropped the parcel she was holding and gasped. "_Hermione_!"

Narcissa's head snapped up and her dark brown eyes found Hermione. The ribbon she had been tying slipped from her fingers and the change in atmosphere was only perceptible to Hermione and Narcissa. The younger brunette walked into the room until she reached the sofa and tried to smile. "Hi." Her eyes fixed on Narcissa. "I came to talk to you, Cissy. But only if you wish to do so, of course."

"We will talk," said Narcissa distantly and Molly looked from Hermione to Narcissa and back.

"Upstairs," she said softly and Hermione sent her a thankful look. She waited for Narcissa to stand up and they silently climbed the stairs to the second floor. Once on the landing Hermione turned around. A small candle on a crooked table illuminated their faces and Narcissa's dark eyes seemed to glow in the dark. They stared at each other, lost in the moment, before Narcissa searched for Hermione's hand and took it.

"I came to apologise," Hermione said and averted her eyes. She stared at the ancient rug on the landing floor. She had never really noticed it before. She could not look the other woman in the eye. "The things I said, they are unforgivable."

"But understandable nonetheless," Narcissa replied softly. "Hermione, what you are going through none of us can even begin to comprehend." Hermione looked up at the other woman through her eyelashes. With those few words Narcissa had forgiven her. She took a deep breath and bit on her lip. Narcissa saw the change in her and intense dark eyes searched her face. "What is it, Hermione? What do you know?"

"Bellatrix…" Hermione began and felt Narcissa's fingers tighten around her wrist. For a moment she wondered if the older woman could smell her sister on her. She sighed. "She said I have until midnight. I had a choice; to go with her there and then or wait. And waiting meant I could tell all of you but I will have to go with her regardless. If I am not back by midnight she will come looking for me." She looked up at Narcissa. "We both know she will find me wherever I am."

"Why now?" Narcissa questioned. "Why only now? She has been following you for some time. She has known the truth perhaps even longer. She knew the Dark Lord returned to find you."

"We don't even know why. He wanted me to die as a child," said Hermione softly. "By now he has everything he ever wanted. He has the world. Harry is dead." Her voice trailed off and both witches momentarily gave into the emotions they both felt. "But Bellatrix is adamant she must bring me to him. She said that only when she does so he can fulfil her one sole wish."

"What?"

Hermione frowned and looked at Narcissa. "Her one sole wish."

Narcissa looked defeated and she turned away from Hermione. She slowly sat down on the steps leading to the next floor and folded her hands in her lap. Empty brown eyes stared at a spot on the floor near Hermione's feet. The younger witch walked up to Narcissa and sat down beside her. A tentative hand slipped into Narcissa's and the older woman looked up. Their eyes found each other.

"You know what this means, don't you?"

Narcissa silently nodded. "Yes, I know, Hermione. I have always known."


	22. Night Of The Lost

**Chapter 22**

"How much longer must this go on, Albus?" asked Minerva and she walked around the wooden desk towards the portrait of the former Hogwarts Headmaster. She looked at him from behind her round glasses, taking in his appearance. Albus Dumbledore leant against his frame, more tired than Minerva had ever seen him look. For a brief moment she wondered whether a painting could even feel tired but the thought was quickly pushed back into the corners of her mind. "First Harry, now Hermione. Does this ever end?"

"I am afraid I am unable to answer that question, Minerva," answered Dumbledore and he rubbed the bridge of his nose for a moment. "Even I could not have seen this coming."

"The seed of Voldemort himself?" questioned Minerva in surprise. "Surely you must have thought about the implications this might have on Miss Granger's life? Have you never, in all those years that she walked through these corridors, wondered whether it was perhaps best that she knew about her heritage?"

Albus raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "How do you expect Miss Granger would have reacted to the news that she was, in fact, the child of the darkest wizard this world has ever known? How do you expect Mr Potter and Mr Weasley would have responded to that information?"

Minerva opened her mouth to speak but the words did not come to her. She shared an intense, disapproving glare, with her oldest friend and then turned away from him. Snow fell heavily outside her window and the castle was in Christmas spirit. Christmas trees decorated the Great Hall, thousands of magical candles floated in the air and mistletoe had appeared in the most inconvenient of places. Most students had gone home for the holidays, only a few had remained. Minerva liked Christmas at Hogwarts. It was the closest thing to home.

"Have you seen Miss Granger since the revelation?" asked Albus slowly and Minerva turned to look at him. As far as paintings went, her friend looked worried and she sighed softly.

"Briefly, I am afraid. She seemed shaken, as one can expect after such news. She and Narcissa…" Her voice chocked in the back of her throat. "Hermione accused her of lying to her for all this time. They fought and Hermione eventually left. I am unsure whether she will return, Albus. She has left the Order worried for her safety. Narcissa is convinced the Dark Lord needs her for something."

"Miss Black is correct," answered Albus and Minerva's emerald green eyes widened behind her glasses. She stared at Albus and for a moment she wished he could come down, stand beside her like they used to do. They had talked for many days and nights, shared their fears and worries throughout the years. She had been the first one he had called for when Voldemort rose to power all those years ago. Her and Severus, side by side. Now it had been him she had first called upon. Her eyes drifted to the empty portrait beside Dumbledore. Severus Snape was not there. His portrait had been empty for the best part of the day. She sighed and looked back at Albus. His calm, soothing voice seemed to subdue some of the frantic worry she felt inside. "I am afraid the tale of Miss Granger's heritage doesn't merely end with the story of her birth, Minerva."

"Then what, Albus?"

"Hermione's mother was Ilona Vadas, the youngest daughter of a Hungarian noble wizard. They were pure bloods, and closely affiliated with the Dark Arts. Family traditions meant a lot to them," said Dumbledore and Minerva furrowed her brow at the description. "I know it sounds like ancient families we are well familiar with here in England. The Blacks, the Malfoys, the Lestranges. The Vadas family was quite like them in a way."

"How did the youngest daughter of a noble man end up with Tom Riddle?" asked Minerva softly.

"Tom Riddle, or Lord Voldemort as he called himself by then, travelled around the world, seeking followers and so he ended up in Hungary where he was attracted to the Vadas' use of dark magic. He told Andris, Ilona's father, what his intentions were. It was at that point their paths would have crossed. Ilona fell pregnant, to her family's shame. By then Voldemort had moved on, seeking more followers to conquer the world. He never once thought about the girl he had left behind. Until she came to England, with his daughter, and begged him to marry her to restore her family honour."

"So instead of honouring her request, he killed her," Minerva concluded Albus' story and her old friend nodded. "And he left the child to die."

"It was here, Minerva," Albus continued slowly. "The forest mentioned in the tale."

Minerva's emerald eyes shot towards the window. There, covered in snow, lay the Forbidden Forest. A place full of dark mysteries and secrets, home to centaurs and other creatures Minerva knew not enough about to name. It was the Forest where Voldemort had summoned Harry the night he had died. She swallowed. "He killed her here, at Hogwarts? That's how you found her, isn't it?"

Albus nodded in his frame and sighed. From his expression Minerva knew there was something he had not yet told her. His blue eyes glistened sadly behind his half-moon glasses. "Yes. But there is more, Minerva. Right before Ilona died she cast a curse upon the man who fathered her child, the man who insisted he would not marry her. She cursed him as she was about to die. And Voldemort believed that with her death the curse had been broken…"

Minerva gasped. "But it wasn't?"

"Ancient magic is perhaps far more dangerous than dark magic. Dark magic we can understand. Ancient magic only very few knew enough about" Albus answered in his lecturing voice and Minerva for a moment felt like she was a student again. "Lord Voldemort only cared about dark magic. He showed no interest in anything else. If he had, he would have known the curse was not broken that night. Ilona Vadas understood ancient magic. Lord Voldemort did not."

"What does this mean, Albus?" Minerva asked.

"That the curse placed upon Lord Voldemort all those years ago is still intact" said Dumbledore slowly and Minerva stared at him, aghast. "Much like with Harry, the magic transferred onto Hermione the night her mother died. She, unlike Harry, did not become a Horcrux. But the curse her mother cast lingers on inside of her, in her blood. Hermione's life is the continuation of that curse."

Minerva looked puzzled. "And the curse…"

"Lord Voldemort was, and still is, obsessed with immortality. It is why he made the Horcruxes, because he believed he would be immortal. But they were destroyed. And he died," said Dumbledore rather matter of fact. "But Ilona's curse went beyond that. Her curse meant that he could never achieve immortality, no matter what he would do. He could have split his soul a dozen times; he would still have died."

Minerva shook her head. There was a hint of accusation in her voice. "Why did you not share this sooner, Albus?"

"There was never a true danger of Lord Voldemort ever becoming immortal, Minerva. Whilst he was unaware of Hermione's existence, he did not know the curse had survived. With her alive, he could never live forever," answered Dumbledore and now Minerva began to understand. "Unknowingly, Hermione Granger aided Harry Potter every time he defied the Dark Lord."

"So it was never Harry alone?"

"Oh it was Harry all right, my dear Minerva," spoke Dumbledore slowly. "But now, things are different. Voldemort saw Hermione the night he died, standing between the burning ruins of Hogwarts. She is a reflection of her mother, as you have seen for yourself and in that moment he knew his child was alive and that her mother's curse prevented him from ever living beyond death. Voldemort had to die, all those nights ago in Godric's Hollow and again at Hogwarts. The curse forced him to."

"So when MacNair brought him back…"

"He most likely did so with the intention for the Dark Lord to kill Harry. But when he returned the Dark Lord cared very little about Harry and he informed them about Harry Potter's friend and the true magic she beholds," concluded Dumbledore and Minerva could swear she saw tears glisten in his ocean blue eyes. The impact of his mistake only begun to dawn on him. She knew he wished he had told them sooner, before the danger was so imminent. "Minerva, I am afraid Hermione Granger is in the most terrible form of danger. He cannot live forever whilst she survives. To see her blood spilled is to break the magic. If he kills her, nothing stands in between him and immortality."

Minerva swallowed and she raised her hand. Flames roared in the fireplaces and she turned away from her old friend in his golden frame. "Then we must act fast, Albus." With those words she stepped into the blazing flames and looked up to meet her friend's eyes. "The Burrow."

~()~

Hermione sat beside Narcissa on the bottom step of the wooden staircase. The silence between them had lasted for several moments and in those seconds Hermione had seen a variety of emotions flash across Narcissa's face. But what had touched her most were the tears that glistened in her eyes, the same tears that now dripped down in Hermione's open palm.

"Bellatrix's sole wish," she whispered encouragingly and looked at Narcissa. The older woman finally looked up to meet her gaze.

"Bellatrix always despised the fact I had Draco. She despised it as much as Andromeda giving birth to Nymphadora. The sound of children's laughter infuriated her and always has done, for as long as I can remember," said Narcissa slowly and sighed. "Bellatrix was barren, Hermione. More than anything she craved a child of her own."

"Funny," Hermione answered sarcastically and caressed her cheek where her bruises lay hidden under the Glamour Charm. "Somehow Bellatrix doesn't strike me as the maternal type."

The corners of Narcissa's mouth twitched but she did not quite smile. "You forget my sister wasn't born the way she is, Hermione. Our upbringing implanted some of the hatred inside of her. It planted hatred inside all of us. We were raised to hate anything and everything that was not pure blood. Her arranged marriage angered her but it was what was expected of her so she conformed to our parents' wishes, as did I. But Rodolphus could not give her a child. She tried everything. Every potion and every spell you can think of. She travelled around the world, seeking a solution. But a cure was never found."

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. The idea of Bellatrix craving a child, desiring motherhood, seemed disturbing. She was not sure whether to be disgusted or saddened. "Seems strange, Cissy. You know, being a Death Eater and a convicted killer doesn't particularly make you a perfect parent."

"When Bellatrix could not conceive she blamed her husband even though tests never showed conclusively why they did not have a child. It is what broke their marriage apart. Instead, she focused her passion on the Dark Lord. All the devotion she harboured inside herself, devotion she would have given to a child, an heir, was now intended for him. She gave him everything so she did not have to focus on the pain of remaining childless. Her devotion was misplaced, perhaps. But the night I gave birth to Draco she was the first at my bedside but she never once held my son. Up till this day she has never held him."

"So when the Dark Lord says he can make her sole wish come true," Hermione said slowly and she shivered at the mention of his name. Every time the name left her lips, the truth became clearer. What he was. What she was. What they were together.

Narcissa sighed. "He will have promised her a child."

"Does that really involve what I think it does?" Hermione asked with raised eyebrows and shook her head in revulsion. The thought of him touching Bellatrix made the bile rise in the back of her throat. "I mean, the last time I checked there was only one way people have babies."

Narcissa couldn't suppress a chuckle at Hermione's comment, even if the thought was reprehensible, and a light pink blush appeared on her cheeks. Even in the dim candle light it was obvious. "You will be pleased to hear that magic is quite far ahead these days, Hermione. Far beyond the knowledge of the Muggle world. There are more ways than one for a woman to conceive. Potions, spells. None of them of the kind taught at Hogwarts or known to most of us. We are talking magic on a completely different level. Times have changed. And, though I must admit I am surprised, I am sure the Dark Lord knows of a way other than the biological one."

Hermione let her breath escape and cast Narcissa a sideways glance. "Would she do this, Cissy? Would she give me up for her one sole wish? Hand me over to my father and allow him to kill me?"

Narcissa sighed. "I long ago lost the ability to predict what my sister would or wouldn't do."

"HERMIONE?"

The brunette's head whipped around at the sound of Minerva McGonagall's voice and she jumped up. Narcissa followed and together they descended down the stairs. Narcissa grasped Hermione's hand just before entering the living room and spun her around. Intense brown eyes found hazel. In the shadows they were almost as dark as Bellatrix's and Hermione gasped softly. Narcissa's lips kindly pressed down on her cheek, near the corner of her mouth and then she pulled away.

"It will be all right," she whispered reassuringly and then opened the living room door. Minerva McGonagall stood in the middle of the living room and turned around when the door swung open. Her emerald eyes lit up when she saw Hermione, closely followed by Narcissa, and her gaze briefly dropped to their linked hands. When her eyes drifted back up she found Hermione's worried gaze and she swallowed hard.

"There is something you need to know," she said and gestured to the sofa. Hermione walked around, sat down and felt more reassured when Narcissa sat down beside her and softly patted her on her knee. Minerva sat down in the arm chair and nervously played with the sleeves of her black robes. The silence between them lasted for several moments and then Hermione's voice broke it.

"What is wrong, Professor?" she asked softly. The last time she had seen Minerva this worried was during the Final Battle, in the moments they had all believed Harry to be dead. "What happened?"

"I spoke to Albus," said Minerva slowly. "He told me the full story about your mother, Hermione. He even gave me her name."

"Her name?" Hermione echoed and suddenly her eyes swam with tears. A name would make her real. She would no longer be a shadow in her mind, without a name. The face that flooded back into her mind every so often since seeing the picture would become real. She swallowed hard. "Her-her name?"

"Ilona Vadas," said Minerva and she could see Hermione test the name on her lips. "Her name was Ilona Vadas. She was the daughter of a noble wizard, affiliated with the Dark Arts. The night she died she begged Tom Riddle to marry her, to restore her honour. Instead he killed her, and left you to die. But in those few instants before her death she cursed him. It was an ancient form of magic. Voldemort believed the curse broken with her death."

"What curse?" asked Hermione, breathless.

"A curse that meant he would never live forever," said Minerva slowly. "The curse meant that no matter what, Voldemort could not live forever. Not a dozen Horcruxes could have given him immortality. He would always die whenever he was at his greatest power. He would be great and yet he would always be weakened. Like an endless dagger in his heart, twisted whenever he felt most victorious. He believed it broken, until that night at Hogwarts when he learnt you were alive. Like Harry, the curse moved onto you when your mother died. You are the sole reason Lord Voldemort has always been mortal. Without you…"

"He can never die."

Minerva nodded slowly and the reality about. "Albus said he did not know what the exact curse was. He merely learnt about it throughout history."

"_Ön soha nem fog örökké élni__,_" whispered Narcissa unexpectedly and Hermione and Minerva looked up in surprise. The youngest Black sister seemed surprised by her own words and looked from Hermione to the Headmistress, her eyes swimming with tears. A childhood memory grew smaller in her eyes. "My mother spoke of it once, a long time ago. It ancient magic, she said. Spoken and used only by a very few. It is rumoured to mean _You will never live foreve_r."

Minerva's lips curled up into a little smile. "I am not surprised to hear Druella knew her ways around ancient magic. I always warned Albus never to underestimate the likes of your mother, Narcissa. It appears I was not wrong."

Narcissa looked at Hermione. The brunette understood her look. They knew why the Dark Lord wanted her and they knew why he had asked Bellatrix to bring her to him. The promise of a child, the one wish Bellatrix had in her life, even now, was all it took for her to bring Hermione to her master, even if the girl was going to die. Hermione wondered whether Bellatrix's desires were so strong she could truly ignore what she was about to do. Then she remembered how she had tortured her, emotionless, and she found herself convinced there was nothing Bellatrix wouldn't do anymore. Whether it was her desire that had ripped apart, combined with the Dementors of Azkaban only adding pain to the tormenting images and voices in her head, Hermione didn't know. But Bellatrix had been destroyed. That much was clear.

They talked for several more hours, up till the point where Hermione found her mind more clouded than cleared. The voices around her became a haze. Emotions, images and voices rushed through her mind, polluted her brain. Her mother's face blurred into that of Voldemort and the face of her father became that of Bellatrix. She heard Narcissa's voice, whispering the ancient curse in her mind, over and over again. She watched Harry and Ron die, before her eyes, and realised with sadness that they had died for her like Harry had feared they would have died for him.

Hermione's eyes found the large Weasley clock on the wall. It was half past eleven. Her heart skipped a beat in her chest and she shot a glance at Minerva, who was now talking to Molly. Narcissa had gone upstairs to check on Ginny, who had complained of back aches earlier that night and Molly feared that she would soon go into labour. Nobody was looking at her and slowly she stood up. She made no excuses; she did not speak a word. She knew she shouldn't leave. She was so much safer where she was. But she could not let this go on. She could not continue lying to them. She could not watch her friends, her loved ones, die for her.

"The time comes when she has to choose between the one she loves and the one that loves her," said a soft voice and Hermione turned around. Narcissa stood in the door way, leaning against the frame. She did not attempt to stop her. Intense dark eyes found Hermione's. "When the new dawn arrives, she will have to make a choice."

"I think we both know I have already made my choice," said Hermione and withdrew her wand from under her sleeve. "I was never going to let anybody else die for me, Cissy. When this is over, the world will be different, it will have changed, but you will be safe. He will no longer target you. To wake up in a world of darkness is better than to not wake up at all."

"Harry would be proud," said Narcissa with a smile and she watched Hermione step out into the night. In a flash she was reminded of the Boy Who Lived, walking through the Forbidden Forest, ready to face the destiny that lay ahead of him. A destiny she helped create. He had reminded her so much of Draco. He was just a child, like her son. By then, when she saw his bloodied face as he stood in front of his nemesis, she had made up her mind. And now she was seeing it all over again; yet another soul prepared to die if it meant the world would be safer, yet darker, for those left behind. She called out for her, one last time. "Hermione, be careful."

She looked over her shoulder, a weak smile lingering on her lips. It faded with every step she took, deeper into the night. Whatever would come, she would face. Her father, her mother… _Herself._

~()~

Her parents' house was the only one in the street with dark windows. She quickly made her way up the path, to the front door, flicked her wand and stepped into the hallway. She left a trail of snow behind as she walked in. It was as cold inside as it was outside and her hot breath created little clouds in the air. It was a few minutes to midnight. Soon it would be Christmas. Hermione walked into the living room and her eyes were drawn to the corner where she and Bellatrix had made love, if you could call it that, several hours ago. Her eyes fluttered shut under the memory and the scent of sex, of passion, filled her nose and brought back the images of that afternoon. A tear found its way down her cheek and she turned towards the window.

"I had almost begun to hope I'd have to chase you," said a slightly disappointed voice behind her.

Hermione did not turn around but instead watched Bellatrix's reflection come nearer in the window. The raven haired Death Eater smiled, almost kindly, and in the light of the full moon her skin seemed to glow. When she reached Hermione, an arm snaked around her waist and she pulled her near, kissing her hair. Hermione did not dare move; she wanted this moment to last for the remainder of her lifetime. She wanted to remember it even in her final moments. Remember it like this, where it felt right, to stand under the full moon together and watch the snow fall outside the glass.

"So this is it then, is it?" whispered Hermione and turned her head ever so slightly so as to look at Bellatrix. "This is the moment where you will take me to him, my father, and will watch me die? After all you've done."

"I did_ nothing_," hissed Bellatrix and her other hand slipped up, her fingers closing around Hermione's throat. Her breath was hot against her skin, almost scolding her flesh. Hermione did not flinch as slender fingers closed around her airways, tighter. The air was squeezed out of her, her heart pounded against her ribcage. She did not move, remained lifeless, resting against her lover's body. Her eyes were wide open, staring at the dark reflection of Bellatrix in the glass. To see her face, for just a moment longer.

"I know your secret."

The words came out with a whisper, her breath dying on her lips. There was pain, intense pain, inside of her. Bellatrix's fingers squeezed tighter around her neck, bruising her skin, forcing out whatever little bit of life was left inside of her.

"If I am to die I'd rather die at your hands than at his."

Suddenly it stopped.

Hermione slumped down to the ground and her lungs eagerly and noisily expanded, filling themselves with the cold winter air of the room. She was wheezing and heaving and struggled to contain her composure. She could feel Bellatrix beside her, watching down at her, staring at her. But she did not turn to meet her eyes; she did not look at her. The raven haired woman fell to her knees, touched her, and reached out those same hands that had nearly murdered her. Hands that had made her bleed, had bruised her, time and time again. Those very same hands had caressed her, touched her, brought her to places she had never even dared to dream off, it was a twisted, broken illusion, a dream within a nightmare. There was life inside death and death inside life.

"Let him give you what you desire," whispered Hermione as she curled up into a ball, her knees up to her chin. Her thick brown curls fell into her eyes, preventing Bellatrix from seeing her. She was alone in this moment. "For your wish is worth my death. My death shall not be in vain if it means those I love and care for are safe. The world may change around them but they will no longer have to die for me"

"You know…" Bellatrix audibly gasped and unexpected soft hands reached to brush the curls out of her eyes. Hermione trembled. "The truth…"

"Better to know the truth in death than live within the lies for all eternity" answered Hermione softly and stared at the cracks in the floorboards. She had learnt to walk in this room. She had done her homework here, fought with her parents here. It was in this room that Minerva McGonagall had told her she was a witch. It was in this room she had erased her parents' memories and had hoped she would someday see them again. It was in this room that she found herself at peace with death.

Bellatrix did not answer. Instead she her arms snaked around the younger woman's frame and she scooped her up, into her arms, and cradled her there for a few moments. Hermione rested her head against Bellatrix's shoulder, allowing the ink black ringlets to tickle her face. The familiar sensation of Apparition engulfed her and her family home disappeared into a blur. Bellatrix's body was the only thing she could cling on to and her arms slipped around the older woman's neck.

The cold wind took her breath away and she gasped when they reappeared. Bellatrix unceremoniously dropped her down into the snow and began walking up to the front door. Hermione lay on cold ground for a few moments, panting slightly, before staggering to her feet and looked up to the house. It rose up out of the darkness, like her most tormenting memories. She had been back here before, during all of this, but tonight felt different. Malfoy Manor's windows were dark and a frown spread across Hermione's face. Before, when Narcissa still lived here, lights flickered behind the glass but now there was nothing. Her eyes darted to Bellatrix's dark figure, lingering by the front door, and she walked up to her. Her heart pounded in her chest with every step.

Bellatrix turned and watched Hermione walk through the snow. She was used to people begging at her feet to live, see the fear of death flicker in their eyes. But Hermione's eyes were empty, her face emotionless. When she climbed the final steps to the door and reached Bellatrix she merely acknowledged her gaze and it was Hermione who flicked her wand and the heavy wooden doors opened, revealing the dimly lit entrance hall behind it. They stepped inside, leaving the cold winter outside. The doors closed with a haunting _bang _that echoed around the house for a few seconds. Then there was silence.

Bellatrix made her way to the drawing room, followed by Hermione. The doors were open and the young brunette found herself confronted, once again, by the room where her nightmares had started. Both her eyes as well as Bellatrix's were drawn to the part of the room where she had been pinned to the floor, bleeding and crying. And for a moment Hermione pictured Narcissa, standing by one of the pillars, watching with a twisted smile of contentment at the scenes unfolding before her eyes. There was a sharp sting of pain near her heart as she thought of Narcissa. She knew why she had let her go tonight, why she had not told the others where she had gone. Because Narcissa still remembered that day too, between these walls.

"My Lord," whispered Bellatrix and only then did Hermione become aware of the tall, cloaked figure standing by the marble fireplace. Illuminated by the orange flames, Lord Voldemort's skin seemed see through and now that he turned around his fiery red eyes fixed on Bellatrix and Hermione. In the blink of an eye he had drawn his wand and Bellatrix seemed torn between walking away and remaining in her place, beside Hermione. For the first time Hermione detected nervousness in Bellatrix.

"Come," spoke Voldemort and he extended a large, pale hand in Hermione's direction. "Come forth, my child."

Hermione swallowed hard and stepped away from Bellatrix, into the middle of the room. The flames of the fire reflected in her hazel eyes as she stood before the man, the monster that was her father. She straightened her spine with the same grace she had seen Narcissa do. Even after all these years she still held the mannerisms and even some of the reservations that came with being a noble pure blood. She stretched her neck and parted her lips. Her heart came to a calm rest in her chest, beating softly against her ribcage like a quiet sign of life. Her voice echoed off the stone walls, loud and clear, without a hint of fear.

"Hello Father."

* * *

**A/N**_ Ön soha nem fog örökké élni_ is Hungarian (as far as the various translate websites go) for "_You w__ill never live foreve_r". I do sincerely hope that the grammar and spelling are correct. If not, and someone knows how it is properly spelled, please drop me a message. ~ Cissy.


	23. Cast Upon A Teadrop

**Chapter 23**

_There is dry blood, on your wrist__  
your dry blood on my fingertip__  
~Wires - Athlete_

He stood in front her, towering over her in all his height. Never before had she realised how tall he really was but, then again, she had never looked at him through the eyes of his daughter. She watched him stride away from the fireplace, closing whatever little distance was left between them. His thin red eyes were fixated on her face and she wondered whether he recognised her mother's features; whether he saw the face of the woman he had left to die in the forest. She wondered whether, somewhere in the rotting depths of his mind, he could hear the cries of the child he had left to perish. She looked at him, without fear or revulsion. Behind her, Bellatrix approached.

His eyes found her and a sickening smile spread across his face, exposing the rotting teeth and the black, snake like tongue. Even a wizard as dark as Voldemort still kept his word and he made a gesture for Bellatrix to come nearer. She approached him apprehensively and for a few seconds she looked like a dear caught in headlines. Intense black orbs looked up to meet the red eyes of her master. The wizard she had once adored so much but who no longer was the true owner of her devotion.

"You have always served me loyally, Bellatrix," he spoke and Bellatrix made a humble bow. Hermione watched the raven curls cover her pale face. She had only a few seconds, if she wanted to fight, to draw her wand. His eyes no longer rested on her and her fingers crept into her back pocket and found her wand missing. Only then did she see it sticking out of the pocket of Bellatrix's dress. The raven haired Death Eater had taken it after she had fallen to the ground, back at her parents' house. Hermione's heart sank in her chest. Her only chance was gone.

Voldemort searched the female Death Eater's face. "You have brought me my daughter."

"My Lord knows I wish nothing more than to please him," whispered Bellatrix softly. She now almost kneeled in front of him but he placed a pale hand on her shoulder, allowing her to rise. She stood up to her full figure, looking more fragile than Hermione had ever seen her before. Voldemort flicked his wand the potion phial landed neatly in his hand. It seemed empty but when Hermione looked closer she could see that it in fact contained a silvery, nearly see through liquid. It glistened, like diamonds. Bellatrix gasped at the sight of the phial and Hermione almost immediately understood what it was.

"Your reward, Bellatrix." spoke Voldemort and placed the phial in Bellatrix's trembling hand. There it lay, in her open palm, before her fingers closed around it, cherishing it. Tentatively Bellatrix pulled the stopper from it and a scent unlike anything Hermione had ever smelt before filled the room. A scent so delicate, so tender and sweet it nearly brought tears to her eyes. The sparkling inside the phial increased and became brighter, and Hermione watched how Bellatrix raised it up, nearer to her mouth. Hermione watched through her silent tears how the diamond liquid made contact with her lips before trickling into her throat. Bellatrix's eyes were closed and Hermione would swear she saw her glow as she drank the potion. The shadows were erased from her skin.

"Fertility Potion," Hermione breathed and her whisper seem to make both Voldemort and Bellatrix aware she was still there. Her eyes found those of her father. "You have given her a Fertility Potion. She has tried them all. None of them worked." Her eyes narrowed and she felt anger rise in the pit of her stomach. "You have cheated her!"

"Oh but this is no potion like any other," said Voldemort and Hermione found herself horrified by his voice. Never before had she heard him speak, like a human. Her eyes did not break contact. "This, my child, was created by a man perhaps wiser than both of us. Severus Snape himself created it, in the days before his death. How it was made, no one knows. It is the potion maker's secret but…" His red eyes fixed on Bellatrix, who had now lowered the phial and let it rest in her open hand. "One knows it works."

Hermione looked at Bellatrix and her breath died in the back of her throat. "She is pregnant?"

"She will be," said Voldemort and Hermione frowned. "There is yet one element to be added to the potion, my child." A disturbed grin spread across his face and he seemed to float in Bellatrix's direction. Hermione felt her heart sink in her chest and her feet moved without her even fully realising what she was doing. She moved nearer to the raven haired woman who had become her lover and her nemesis. Bellatrix had brought her here to die if it meant she could have her one sole wish. Black orbs found Hermione's hazel brown. There was no apology. There was no understanding. But what Hermione did see was a glow, like a small orb, floating near her stomach. It radiated, like the liquid inside the phial had done. Tiny diamonds seemed to linger, waiting for the cycle to be completed.

"Touch."

Hermione's answer died on her lips and at that same moment the doors behind them swung open. Someone cried a spell, there was a bright flash of light and Voldemort evaporated into a black cloud. Bellatrix whimpered something before cowering away into a corner, shielding her stomach with her arms. Hermione looked from Bellatrix to the door and found Narcissa running in, yielding her wand, and closely followed by Minerva, Arthur, George and Kingsley. All of them had drawn their wands and were casting hexes and curses at the dispersing black cloud. Her heart roared in happiness at the sight of them but then her eyes found Bellatrix in the corner. Narcissa had seen her too.

"Bella!" Narcissa shrieked and approached her sister, her wand drawn. Blazing dark eyes were fixated on the woman who had been willing to sacrifice Hermione for her own wish. Clouds of black smoke began to surround them, forcing them in various corners of the room. Voldemort's whisper filled their ears, their minds, their souls. Hermione found herself kneeling down onto the ground, covering her ears. The smoke burnt her eyes yet she knew there was no fire. Desperately she looked around but the mist was so thick she could not see anything.

"Lumos," someone said and seconds later Minerva's face appeared from the darkness and she reached Hermione. Kneeling down beside her, wrapping an arm around her in safety, she sheltered her. Hermione's heart hammered in her chest and her brain went into overdrive.

"Whatever you do, don't touch Bellatrix!" she hissed and Minerva looked at her in confusion. Hermione did not wait for her to vocalize her questions. Instead she stared her mentor straight in the eye. Urgency and desperation flickered in her eyes and she recognised Minerva's understanding. A hand sought for hers and she took it. "You must not touch her, Minerva!"

Then the contact between them broke. Someone behind her roared "STUPEFY" and she dodged to the left to avoid the stray curse. Voldemort's high pitched laughter rang in her ears and she searched for Narcissa but could not find her. The clouds grew thicker the more she moved and Hermione coughed, covering her mouth with her hands and peered through her eyelashes.

"You cannot safe her," whispered Voldemort and his words were followed by a deafening silence. "The future can only belong to one of us. My daughter belongs to me. It is my blood that runs through her veins. She is not yours to safe."

There was a bright flash of green light. Hermione stood nailed to the ground, unable to move. The next thing she felt was pain, shooting through her shoulder as she collapsed to the ground and her head bounced off the wooden floor. Tears sprung into her eyes and she tasted blood in the back of her throat before she became aware of the body lying on top of her. When she turned her head she found Narcissa staring down at her. Anger flickered in her eyes.

"Why did you come here?" Hermione desperately whispered. "Now he will kill us all."

"The only one dying will be him, Hermione," hissed Narcissa and she waved her wand.

Hermione felt her breath being stolen before it had even left her mouth. Narcissa had leapt to her feet, stronger than Hermione had dared to imagine in a time like this. The magic she displayed was stronger than anything else Hermione had ever seen. The wind picked up, growing into a storm, and it forced the smoke and clouds apart. Her curls danced around her head as she staggered to her feet, following the cloud around the room. Voldemort was forced into his original shape, standing tall and proud, and his red eyes fixed on Narcissa. She stared back at him, defiantly.

"You betray me once more, Narcissa," he spoke and cocked his head to one side as if to understand her reasons. Narcissa did not even flinch. In a time like this, of sheer desperation, she still clung on to the reservations that had seen her through the years at Lucius' side. She had learnt to close her mind, to close her heart. So she stood in front of the monster that torn apart her family and she felt nothing. And Voldemort knew. His tongue protruded from his mouth and there was a hint of amusement in his voice. "But it is too late to save your sister or your lover."

"You have ruined too much in too many lifetimes," spoke Narcissa calmly and she raised her wands. The devotion and hatred flickering in her eyes told the true story of why she had come here tonight and what she intended to do. "Tonight only one can die."

Voldemort openly laughed; it was a bone chilling cackle that left everybody else in the room frozen. The sound of his laughter was horrifyingly disturbing. Minerva and Kingsley were standing a few steps behind Narcissa, wands drawn in her defence. Both were unhurt but Minerva's long hair had sprung free from the bun in her neck. Arthur was looking after George, who seemed to be nursing a broken nose. Blood poured down his bruised and swollen face and his father seemed desperate to stop it. George was whispering something nobody could hear, his voice smothered by his own blood.

"How foolish," spoke Voldemort unexpectedly and he walked towards Narcissa, on his bare feet. She took a step back, followed by another but her eyes never broke the contact. She was no longer afraid of him. Fear no longer held a place in her heart. "To die for those you love the most."

"I'd rather die for them then watch them die for you," answered Narcissa and Hermione's heart shattered. Her hazel eyes were fixed on the older witch, standing across from her father. Neither showed any sign of stepping down. She had known the moment Narcissa ran into the room why she was here, what she had come to do. Back at the Burrow she had seemed accepting of Hermione's fate, but her heart had changed. And now she was here to defend her; to save her.

The flash of light was blinding and Hermione was forced to look away. It was as if the sun itself had appeared in the drawing room. There was an outcry of pain, followed by a loud crack. A large, gaping hole had appeared in the furthest wall. The light was gone and Narcissa and Voldemort stood across each other, circling around like a predator hunted its prey. It had been Narcissa who had cast the strong Shield Charm even before Voldemort had had a chance to cast his hex. His spell had been deflected, leaving the cold winter air to find its way into the drawing room.

It all happened so quickly. Within seconds the room was full of light and sound. Different colours, different strengths. The magic was everywhere and an array of spells shot in Voldemort's direction. Narcissa, Kingsley, Minerva and Arthur worked together, aiming at the darkest wizard of all time from various angles. But he walked through the magic unharmed, flicking his wand as if the spells were just simple irritations. He showed no inclination to fight them, he merely walked. The strength of his Shield Charm outdid Narcissa's and knocked Minerva McGonagall off her feet. It forced Kingsley and Narcissa towards the wall, their wands still drawn but unable to send another spell out of fear it would rebound and hit them. Narcissa's dark eyes followed the monster that had destroyed so many lives. He was approaching Bellatrix, who still stood in the corner.

Voldemort cast a sideways glance at Narcissa and Kingsley. Both were panting. There was a glint of amusement in his red, thin eyes. "Only I can live forever."

"We've heard that one before, haven't we, Father?" said Hermione loudly and Voldemort's head snapped in her direction. She stood beside Bellatrix and stared at him, fearless. "You never cease to amaze me. Harry was right when he said you would never know love or friendship. My mother loved you and you killed her and she cursed you for it. You left me to die in her arms. You cannot understand." Her arm and her hand slipped towards Bellatrix and a devious grin spread across her face. "You have lost your chance."

"NO!" shrieked Voldemort and under his skin his veins pulsated in anger. Hermione held the raven haired witch's hand. The diamond glow that had circled around her belly had begun to fade, nestling itself inside Bellatrix's stomach. It slowly faded into the fabric of her dress. Something changed in her eyes and for a few seconds they sparkled like diamonds. A smile of triumph adorned Hermione's face. Her father's horrified shriek echoed of the Manor walls. "No! This cannot be!"

"All that was needed to complete the cycle was a touch," said Hermione and looked down at their linked hands. Bellatrix had not moved. She stood frozen, almost looking frightened. Hermione knew what she had just done. She had seen through her Father's plan. She knew what he had wanted. The consequences of her actions were yet to be discovered but in this moment she did not care. Her heart cried for Bellatrix. "I think this constitutes as a touch, right?"

The room exploded into a fireball. The strength of the explosion knocked her off her feet and her head hit the stone wall before slumping down to the ground. For a few seconds she saw nothing but then she crawled back onto her feet and searched around for Bellatrix. Her hand had slipped out of hers when she fell but she was no longer standing behind her. She tried to scream, to call for her, but the smoke filled her lungs. Glass shattered and rained down on her, cutting through her skin. Blood began to trickle down her face as she staggered to her feet, desperate to see through the smoke. She had no wand and stood forlorn, unable to act.

Someone grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her away. Something was pushed into her hand and she realised it was her wand. Suddenly the flames were everywhere. They were so hot they burnt her skin without even touching her. She used the silent spells and the flow of water shot from her wand but they did not kill the flames. Instead, they roared up higher, licking at the ceiling. There were whimpers and cries but Hermione couldn't see a thing. Her heart hammered in her chest. Thick, burning smoke filled her lings and Hermione aimed her wand at the spot where she had last seen her father.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Her green jet got lost in the smoke.

Whoever had hold of her appeared from out of the smoke. It was Narcissa. Dark smudges covered her face and she had split her lip. Part of her face was covered in blood and her robes were torn. Dark eyes found Hermione's but she did not speak. She yielded her wand, waved it around and the smoke around them seemed to evaporate until a circle of light had been created around them. In the distance Hermione could see vague glimpses of the others.

"Bella!" she tried but her voice was cut off by the smoke. Tears streamed down her face and her skin was burning under the heat. Narcissa's arms closed around her waist, pulling her closer. It was as if she knew Hermione was going to try and free herself. Her grip was tight and secure and Hermione gave up fighting her, resting her head on her shoulder in defeat instead. Her heart cried in her chest, longing for the raven haired woman who had disappeared in the smoke.

"_No_," she whispered when she sensation of apparition washed over her and Narcissa's arms closed around her even tighter. "No, I must stay here!"

They reappeared outside the Burrow and both witches fell to the ground, their lungs eagerly sucking in the bitter winter air. The front door swung open and Molly came running out, followed by Andromeda. There were more popping sounds and Kingsley and Minerva appeared. The Minister of Magic was supporting the Headmistress but she promptly told him she was quite capable to walk on her own. Slightly bewildered Kingsley let go of her and Minerva hurried over to Hermione and Narcissa, who were both lying face down in the snow, heaving and with tears streaming down their faces. Molly and Andromeda reached them and both witches fell to their knees and drew their wands. Molly began treating the large, painful looking blisters on Hermione's arms whilst Andromeda tried to heal the cut on Narcissa's face.

"Get her inside," said Molly and Kingsley and Minerva carefully scooped Hermione up and carried her into the house. Just as they began to walk, Arthur and George appeared. Their face blackened by the fire they appeared to be in once piece, apart from George's broken nose, and followed the others into the house. They slumped down in the kitchen chairs and were followed by Andromeda and Narcissa. The latter fought her older sister to let her walk alone and lay off her but Andromeda was having none of it. She insisted Narcissa sat down at the kitchen table and look at her so she could continue treating the blisters on her face and hands.

Molly and Minerva stood by Hermione, who lay sprawled out on the sofa, and Kingsley excused himself when the two women began peeling her clothes of her burning skin. Revealing not only blisters but also bruises, scratches and bite marks, Minerva gasped in horror and took a step back, clutching her chest. Her eyes wandered off into the kitchen where Andromeda was treating her reluctant younger sister.

"Surely Cissy would not…" she whispered but the rest of her sentence died on her lips when Hermione's eyes opened. Hazel brown met green and she sat up, ignoring the pain. Realising she had been magically stripped from her jumper and jeans she wrapped her arms around herself and reached for one the blankets laying on the sofa. Hermione swallowed, her throat feeling swollen and sore. Her voice was hoarse and broken.

"Minerva, could you excuse us please?"

The Headmistress sent Hermione a puzzled look but did what she was asked and retreated into the kitchen. Hermione could hear her talk to Arthur and George, who was pressing an ice pack against his now fixed yet still swollen nose. Then her eyes fixed on Molly, who still stood beside her, and who watched her with a mixture of sadness, confusion and apprehension. She lowered the blanket she had used to cover herself and looked up to the woman who had become like a mother to her. If the revelation of her bruised and burnt skin startled Molly, she did not show it and Hermione was grateful. "Can we get this over with?"

Molly went about to treating the blisters that covered Hermione's skin. It was painful but the brunette never made a sound. She sat with her back turned towards her, lowering the straps of her bra before unhooking it. She folded her arms across her chest to cover herself and sat silently, biting down on her lip as the tip of Molly's wand touched her skin. She whispered the same incantation over and over and her skin began to heal. But with the blisters gone, the bruises, scratches and bite marks remained and it wasn't until Hermione had to turn around to allow Molly to treat the front side of her body that their eyes met. Allowing her arms to slip from her breasts Hermione revealed the blisters but also the bruises and Molly's eyes subconsciously wandered to the kitchen, like Minerva's had done. Narcissa was undergoing the same treatment in there.

"Perhaps I need to have a word with Cissy," Molly said as she healed a rather large blister on Hermione's shoulder. The brunette flinched in pain and Molly seemed apologetic. "There are kinder ways to, you know…"

"Don't get involved in this, Molly," said Hermione and looked up to the red haired woman. She did not even attempt to deny she and Narcissa were not lovers. Clearly everybody believed they were. Perhaps it was better that way. It was safer at least. "You really don't want to know."

Molly nodded and at that same moment Narcissa walked into the living room. Seeing Hermione sitting naked in front of the Weasley matriarch made her stumble backwards and she quickly averted her eyes. Molly looked from Hermione to Narcissa and then withdrew her wand. "This will do for now. Get some rest and we will treat the others tomorrow…" As she walked out of the room she gave Narcissa a look only Hermione could understand. She quickly scrambled around for her jumper and pulled it over her head. Wearing nothing more than that and her knickers she wrapped herself up in the blanket and Narcissa finally entered the room. Her face looked less burnt but her lip was still split.

"You shouldn't have come," said Hermione dismissively. Her eyes searched for Narcissa's. "This isn't your fight, Cissy."

"It wasn't just me, Hermione. When they realised you had gone they wanted to come and find you. I persuaded Andromeda to stay here, just in case you came back," Narcissa said and Hermione wondered how she had managed that. Andromeda was almost as fiercely protective of her as Narcissa was. "They were adamant they wanted to find you. I could not hold them back because I did not want to."

"She did not force me to go with her. I went voluntarily," answered Hermione and Narcissa's eyes widened. "You know what it is I wanted. After tonight we are all in danger. This is no longer just about me. This is about all of us. Including Bellatrix."

Narcissa swallowed hard. "And the child she now carries."

Hermione averted her eyes and stared at the floor. "You know why, Cissy."

"Hermione, have you got any idea what it is you've done?" Narcissa said desperately and there were tears glistening in her eyes. "My sister is pregnant with _your _child!"

"A Fertility Potion unlike any kind I have ever seen before," said Minerva and the two witches looked up. The Headmistress stood in the living room door way, looking at them. If she still thought Hermione and Narcissa were lovers, she was hiding it well. "Most Fertility Potions need to contain a part of both parents to work. A hair or something of that kind. Many are derived from the original base of Polyjuice Potion but with different effects, of course. But to merely require the touch of another person to conceive…." Her voice trailed off. "It is unheard off."

"Blame the Potions Master who created it," Hermione said harshly and pulled a face. "Severus Snape." Minerva's eyebrows shot up in surprise and Hermione shrugged. "Don't ask me, he never quite seemed the reproductive type to me either."

"This can't go on, Hermione," Narcissa said finally and Hermione's eyes found hers. "These things with Bellatrix." She was careful how to phrase her words, aware Minerva was standing by them. Nobody knew about what had been happening between Hermione and Bellatrix for all this time. She swallowed. "This has to end. You will have to choose."

"Choose?" echoed Minerva, not quite understanding what Narcissa meant.

"Oh go on, tell them!" Hermione suddenly snapped and Narcissa's eyes widened in shock. The sharpness of her voice brought Molly and Andromeda into the living room, closely followed by Fred and Arthur. Hermione's hazel eyes were blazing. "You might as well as you have made it so damn clear to them already!"

Narcissa tried to compose herself but her voice was constricted with tears. "Stop it, Hermione! You are being irrational!"

"Isn't that what you've been saying all along? That I am irrational, that I am crazy and I am endangering everybody?" Hermione jumped off the sofa and onto her feet. Without regard for the fact she was only half dressed. She grabbed her jeans off the floor and put them on.

"Bellatrix is dangerous, Hermione."

Hermione stood across Narcissa, towering over her as the older witch still sat down. Eyes burnt into her back; people stared at her. Hermione's face still looked angry and red from the fire, giving her an almost demented expression as she stared at Narcissa. "But I love her!"

"And she will never love you back" Narcissa's voice had been a defeated whisper. "You will have to choose, Hermione!"

Hermione's heart broke into a thousand pieces in her chest when she found Narcissa's eyes. For a moment it was just them. Jus them and the brutal honesty between them. That same honesty would now destroy them both. "It was never going to be you, Cissy"

"I know that. I have always known."

Hermione averted her eyes and found her wand on the table. She took it, slipped it in her pocket and stared at a spot on the wall. She needed to get out of here. She needed to get away. Only outside, in the bitter cold, could she be away from the imminent judgment that would follow these revelations. "Bellatrix is carrying a child. _My child_. This child is as much part of her as it is part of me and Merlin knows what this will mean for the future."

Narcissa attempted to reach for Hermione's hand when she walked past the sofa but Hermione pulled away. "He is still out to kill you."

Hermione brushed past Andromeda, George, Arthur and Molly and into the kitchen. There she turned around and angry eyes met those of Narcissa. They all looked at her, confused and broken, and she felt a sharp sense of guilt near her heart. She had betrayed them all more than once. And tonight had been the ultimate betrayal. "I suppose I will just have to kill him first."

She rushed out of the kitchen and into the night, ignoring the voices that begged for her to return. It had stopped snowing but it was still bitter cold. The fields surrounded her as she ran as quickly as her feet would allow her to. Her heart hammered against her ribcage and her lungs, still scorched by the fire, burnt in her chest. She felt sick and dizzy by the time she stopped running. The Burrow lay far behind her, just a glowing dot in the distance. She stood in the country side and glanced up to the fool moon. A single tear found its way down her burnt cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Hermione."


	24. This Single Moment

**A/N:** Well, it took me a while to get an update going. I sort of got myself stuck on the pregnancy thing. I have now decided upon the ending of the story and will try and get this written as soon as possible. For now, here is another chapter. Thank you all so much for the amazing reviews. This is one of my best reviewed stories so far and it means the world to see you guys sticking with me throughout it all. And, since I am on a roll here anyway, I'd like to let you know that after this story I will write a Narcissa/Hermione (for those who are interested). ~Cissy

* * *

**Chapter 24**

_No one knows what it's like to feel these feelings__  
Like I do__  
and I blame you!__  
The Who ~ Behind Blue Eyes_

She travelled for two days. Through the snow covered mountains in Wales, the rolling hills in Wiltshire and along the Cornish coast. It was bitter cold and on her tracks she never saw a soul. It was Christmas and people sat surrounded by their families, candle light and stacks of presents. They would have their Christmas dinners and laugh and talk and finally fall asleep in front of their televisions. She tried not to look into their windows, tried not to remember how her own Christmases had once been. She had not even bothered to put up a tree for the past few years. She bought presents for her friends, and smiled at the ones they gave her in return. She slept in pubs, where landlords never asked why she was here, without her family and out in the snow. She sat away from the other strays; people on their holidays or otherwise separated from their families. She did not meet their eyes, did not respond to their invitations to join them for a drink. She wanted to be alone because that was what she was; alone.

She thought about going back to the Burrow, apologise to Narcissa and ask whether they could forgive her for everything she had done wrong. She had come to the point of Dissaparating, to go back, but it was when she was reminded that Bellatrix carried her child that she didn't leave. Instead she had walked into another pub and ordered a steaming mug of tea and stared into the liquid instead of drinking it. The miracle of a white Christmas begun to fade the day after Boxing Day when the first sunshine carefully peered from behind the thick grey clouds.

It was only on the third day after leaving that she found the energy to Apparate back to London. Walking through an abandoned street, its surrounding buildings largely in ruins or empty and boarded up, reminded her of the world they lived in now. The world she helped to create. It had not looked like this, back in the countryside. People had felt the evil, seen it even, but it had not quite reached it to the extent that it had reached London. She climbed the stairs to her apartment, knowing most of the others who had once shared the building with her were either dead or gone. She carelessly flicked her wand to unlock the front door and broke through the magical enchantments that protected it. She walked into her bedroom and peered out into the streets. They were abandoned. And then she did the one thing that changed everything. She swallowed hard and the words fell from her lips in a whisper.

"Finite Incantatem."

There was a strange tingle near her toes, a soft rush of wind and then silence. But it didn't last long. A rough voice came from outside and screamed "There she is!"

She only just ducked in time and the window in her bedroom shattered and shards of glass rained down on her. The impact of the explosion knocked her off her feet and she was thrown against the furthest wall. Hermione managed to hold on to her wand and rolled away, onto her stomach, when a bright red jet of light shot through the room and crashed into the wall where her head had been a few seconds ago. Her heart hammered in her chest and she staggered to her feet, out of the room. Two dark cloaked figures appeared in her bedroom, thrashing their way through the furniture as they deflected the curses she sent their way.

She did not recognise their faces but they had recognised hers. The tallest Death Eater had short black hair, a goatee and was missing one of his front teeth. The second one was shorter, with puffy eyes and an overbite. Neither one of them could be classified as attractive. The tallest one tore through her duvet, filling the room with feathers and Hermione rushed into the hallway, casting random jinxes over her shoulder. An outcry of pain told her she had hit one of them. She ran into the living room and turned around just in time to see the taller Death Eater walk in after her, brandishing his wand. There was evil flickering in his eyes and she cast a powerful Shield Charm to deflect his Stunning Spell. She retaliated with a well-aimed Stupefy but he cast the spell aside, sending it into the wall. The only remaining picture of her parents shattered before her eyes and Hermione felt herself go numb inside.

"Did he send you to fetch me?" she hissed through her heavy breathing. She felt warm blood trickle down the side of her face. She stared at the tall Death Eater with blazing eyes and he stared back, menacingly. "Did my Father send you?"

"Shut your mouth, Mudblood," he barked and Hermione's eyebrows shot up at the use of the slur. His wand was aimed at her chest. There was a deep cut on his hand. Blood dripped down onto her floor. The devotion and hatred in his eyes resembled the look she had seen in so many of Voldemort's followers yet he was not important enough to know the truth. "Give up your fight!"

"Not very polite, are we?" Hermione retorted and a twisted grin spread across her face. In that moment, more than ever before, her true nature showed and to anybody else who knew the truth she would have resembled her Father more than ever before. There was venom in her voice that was identical to his. "Is this how you talk to the Dark Lord's daughter?" She watched the Death Eater's face change. He seemed surprised. "Oh, I see. He didn't tell you."

She used his surprise to her advance and shot a quick Stunning Spell his way. The jet was bright red and crashed into his chest. She watched his frozen body fall backwards, crashing against the wall. She heard the splitting of his skull, a sickening crack, and her stomach dropped. Slowly she walked towards him. His body lay sprawled out, resting in a half seated position against the wall. Blood trickled from the back of his head, down the side of his neck. His eyes were wide open but he saw nothing. Hermione turned away from him and made her way back to the bedroom. The second Death Eater lay across what was left of her bed, surrounded by feathers. She swallowed hard at the sight of devastation and then walked back into the hallway and out of the door. She took in a deep breath of cold winter air, her lungs eagerly expanding, and turned on the spot without really knowing where she was going. Now there was nothing left to come home to.

~()~

She reappeared at the steps of St Paul's Cathedral in the City of London and looked around. The normally so busy and crowded area surrounding the cathedral was now abandoned. She sat down on the steps, folding her bloodied hands in her lap. The blood trickling down the side of her face had dried and she felt empty and hollow. The image of her house in ruins, the only place that had been safe up till tonight, was imprinted in her mind. She had chosen to destroy it. She could no longer live the life she had been used to.

"For God sake, Bellatrix!" she called and her voice echoed through the empty night. She rolled her wand through her fingers. "Why did you do this to me? Where are you when I need you?"

There was a faint pop not far to her left and her head whipped around. But what she saw wasn't the dark haired, black dressed female Death Eater. Instead there were two men, dressed in identical black robes and both charged in her direction with their wands drawn. She leapt to her feet, flicking her wand in her defence and a strong Shield Charm stopped the incoming spells. She began to rn, down the steps, past the statue at the bottom and around the corner. Her feet echoed off the cobbled street and she could hear her attackers close in.

"Impedimenta!"

Hermione froze in her tracks at the sound of the other voice and spun around. Figures had emerged to her right and more appeared behind her. The Death Eaters who had been following her were now distracted by others attacking them. The duels were fierce and intense, their faces illuminated by the bright coloured jets of light. It wasn't until she felt fingers close around her wrist that she turned around and found familiar dark eyes look at her. Narcissa looked paler than Hermione had ever seen her and she instantly felt a sense of regret for having left her the way she had done.

"You shouldn't be here," Narcissa pleaded and pulled Hermione nearer, away from the increasing duel around them. Minerva was battling the oldest Death Eater and seemed to have met her match. His mask had fallen off but Hermione did not recognise him. The second one however had familiar silver blonde hair and was facing Andromeda. And there was little that she wasn't willing to do to her brother in law. There were more Order members. Hermione saw Draco and Arthur attempting to help Minerva and Andromeda.

"Cissy, I'm sorry," Hermione whispered and felt tears stream down her face. She was tired and felt broken inside. Everything was just too much. She could not remember the last time she had slept throughout the night, the last time she had felt safe or in control. "I never wanted for any of this to."

Her voice was cut off when there was another popping sound and through the erupting battle a dark clad figure appeared. Bellatrix strode confidently towards them, almost oblivious to what was happening around her. Dark, almost black eyes, were fixed on the young brunette seeking shelter in Narcissa's arms but now that she saw the raven haired woman walk towards her, she broke free from Narcissa's embrace and her breath died in the back of her throat. Desperately the older woman tried to reach for her, tried to grab her arm, but Hermione ignored her and walked towards Bellatrix. The dark witch reached out a hand and Hermione's fingers entwined with Bellatrix's without asking. In that split second she ignored everything Narcissa has just done for her, what the others were here for. She looked over her shoulder and found Narcissa looking at her, crying. And then she was gone. The bitter cold wind pulled at her hair as she disappeared, allowing Bellatrix to take her to wherever it was she wanted to go.

~()~

The old Mansion lay in the Surrey hills, a part of England with outstanding beauty. Snow still rested on snow branches. It had been empty for some time and its windows were covered in grime. Inside the old curtains were torn and thick layers of dust covered old paintings and the fireplaces. The grand staircase leading to the second floor missed several steps and the wind howled around the building. Their footsteps echoed around the building as Hermione followed Bellatrix through the one impressive entrance hall, with its painted ceilings, into what had once been a lounge. Furniture was covered by old, white sheets and in the darkness they seemed like haunting figures. With a careless flick of her wand the fire ignited in the dusty fireplace and Bellatrix's pale face was illuminated by the orange flames.

"Where are we?" Hermione whispered and the raven haired woman turned around. Ink black eyes found Hermione's hazel eyes and she saw the change in her. Something seemed alive in those eyes. Something Hermione had never seen before and she took a step in Bellatrix's direction. It was wrong to be here, she knew. She had abandoned her friends, her loved ones, so many times. Every time she returned here, with Bellatrix. She would run back to her, no matter how hard her heart cried not to. She couldn't change the way she felt. It was destroying her, eating her alive. It would be the death of her and if it was meant to be, then she would die with her. Rather at her hands than the hands of her Father.

"Home," answered Bellatrix casually. "Welcome to Black Manor"

Hermione's eyes wandered around and now the images on the wall struck her. The faces of three young girls, in three separate paintings. Two so much alike, one so different. The young faces of Andromeda and Narcissa stared back at her, smiling shyly. Hermione felt her heart sink in her chest when her eyes found the painting of young Bellatrix. She was so beautiful, so untainted. How time had changed. All the delicate features had been replaced by rough shadows, by scars and haunting memories. She swallowed and looked at Bellatrix.

"How are you feeling?" It seemed like a strange question to ask.

"Sick" Bellatrix answered simply and walked around the room. Her fingers traced along the sheet covered furniture and Hermione followed a few steps behind her. When she stopped walking and turned around their eyes found each other. Bellatrix seemed strangely calm, almost normal. Her dark eyes narrowed. "You knew! You knew what he was going to do." She paused and her right hand came to a rest on her stomach, touching it gently. "He wanted this child to be his."

Hermione nodded. "I suspected that was his plan, yes."

"And you stopped him."

"Would you rather give birth to his child than to mine?" Hermione asked. The strangeness of the conversation struck her. It was the first time she and Bellatrix had faced each other as equals and that they talked instead of fought and their words were not laced with venom and hatred. It was the first time she felt as if she got to see the true woman underneath the mask. She cocked her head in curiosity and swallowed when Bellatrix remained silent. "I didn't think you would."

Bellatrix closed the distance between them and grabbed Hermione's wrist. There was a sharp pain, a reminder of what it used to be like between them. Hungry yet sad eyes pierced into her own and Hermione leant in, desperate to feel those lips on her own again. Bellatrix's lips crashed down against hers and her tongue found its way in, twirling around her own. Desperate fingers tucked at the hem of her jumper, peeling it up and revealing the skin underneath. Hermione's fingers began unlacing Bellatrix's corset and minutes later they lay naked on the white sheets, their bodies entangled and their kisses growing in passion and intensity. Bellatrix nipped at Hermione's bottom lip and then the young brunette trailed her tongue to the side of her neck, sucking down gently on her pulsating vein.

"You can't fuck the pain away," Bellatrix whispered and intense black eyes stared up at Hermione, who hovered over the raven haired witch. "It will always be there."

"I never said I didn't want to feel the pain," Hermione answered as her sharp nails sunk into Bellatrix's breasts and she saw the older woman flinch. She left behind deep, dark red gashes as she clawed he way down Bellatrix's stomach. Her lips followed the trail she left behind and her lips found a hard, swollen nipple. Bellatrix whimpered as she bit down and Hermione moaned to herself. "Perhaps it is what I need to really be alive."

Bellatrix tasted of everything that was forbidden when she finally dipped her tongue between her legs. She kissed the inside of her thighs, gently, before allowing her nails to dig deeply into the pale, warm flesh. She felt Bellatrix's arch her back and tighten around her fingers as she slipped inside of her, feeling the intense heat. The older witch seemed desperate and her chest was heaving. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead, her upper lip and the valley between her breasts. Hermione tasted her on her tongue, on her lips, as she sucked on the other witch's most sensitive spot and soon Bellatrix's body trembled and shook. She bucked faster, pressing down on Hermione's fingers as they moved deeper and quicker in and out. When she hit her orgasm a deep groan left the raven haired woman's lips. She arched her back and her fingers entwined in Hermione's thick curls.

Hermione lay down on her back beside Bellatrix and stared up at the ceiling. A crystal chandelier hung above their heads, covered in dust. She reached for her wand, sticking out of the messy pile of clothing, and whispered a soft incantation. The small candles caught fire one by one, casting a magical glow through the darkness. The crystals reflected off the walls, the floor and created beautiful shapes around them. Hermione rolled onto her side and snaked her arm around Bellatrix's waist. The older witch lay still, almost frozen. Her dark ringlets had fallen into her eyes and Hermione brushed them aside before resting her head on her chest. Bellatrix's tentative hands began to draw circles on her shoulder blade as Hermione kissed her exposed skin.

"You know he is after both of us now," spoke Bellatrix softly and took Hermione's hand. She placed it on her stomach, where the fruit of their twisted love now grew. "He wants to kill you and he wants this child to die."

Hermione didn't answer. The world had changed in the last few days. It seemed the pregnancy had changed Bellatrix. It had erased some of the darkness that had lived inside her for all these years and brought out what had been kept hidden for all these years. The idea that a child, innocent and new, was growing inside her lover's body was something she could not yet comprehend and Hermione felt a single tear trickle down her face. She swallowed hard.

"We were doomed from the start, Bella."

"Yeah, neither one of us makes great parent material, do we?" the older witch answered and Hermione detected the hint of humour in her voice. Bellatrix stirred and moved away from Hermione's protective arm. She stood up, naked, and Hermione got to admire her full glory one last time before she got dressed. She followed suit and slipped back into her jeans and jumper and stored her wand in her pocket. Bellatrix turned to look at her.

"I can come with you," said Hermione. "The Order will at some stage give up trying to protect me. I have been nothing but ungrateful for what they have done but if it means I can keep you…"

"Keep me?" Bellatrix echoed and dark eyes narrowed. "I was never yours to keep!"

"But…"

"Too many mistakes were made," Bellatrix said sharply and Hermione felt a sense of defeat as she watched her lover, her twisted and sickened lover, walk around the room. "What makes you think things have changed?" Bellatrix pulled back the sleeve of her dress and revealed the Dark Mark. She cherished it with her index finger and Hermione felt her heart stop in her chest as Bellatrix pressed down. The Mark began to swell and burn and Hermione watched how it became darker. Outside the wind picked up and howled around the house. In the distance she could hear a high pitched scream and she knew he was here. Bellatrix had done it again. She betrayed her all over again; like she had always intended to do. She had not changed. Nothing between them was any different from the moment they started this. It had been sick, it had been wrong. She had been unable to understand what had brought her here, what made her love this woman who betrayed her over and over again.

"Why, Bellatrix?" Hermione asked as a freezing cold invaded the room. Tears glistened in her eyes. The raven haired woman looked at her in triumph and her ruby lips curled up into a smile.

"Did you truly believe I would have done something different?" Bellatrix asked. "Did you really think something would have changed? You know what I am. It is what attracted you to me. You are nothing. Compared to what is out there, what the world has to offer, what are you? You want to die; it is why you kept coming back. To hide your guilt and to avoid the blame of what you have done to your friends."

"No," Hermione breathed and tears began to trickle down her cheeks. "What happened to Ron and Harry…"

"Was your fault" Bellatrix answered sharply and she walked towards Hermione. She pulled back the sleeve of her dress and revealed the silver scars on her forearm. "Nothing has changed since that day." An unexpected slap made Hermione's world spin and her skin bruised there where Bellatrix's hand had made contact with her skin. "_Nothing_. Like I said, you can't fuck the pain away. No matter how much you try to deny it. You caused this, Hermione. You came to me. You brought down the world as you knew it. You never stopped anything. You never fought, you never resisted." Bellatrix gestured at the world outside. The world that now lay in ruins. "YOU did this!"

The walls shook and trembled as Voldemort descended and black smoke began to fill the room. Strings of mist circled Hermione, making their way up from her feet to her hands and her arms. She could smell him before she could see him. She knew he was here before her eyes had even found him. And through the mist she saw Bellatrix, running out of the room. Her haunting cackle echoed through the house as she disappeared into the night. She was gone before she could blink. Now Hermione was alone with her Father. She watched him appear in front of her, tall and dark. The crystal chandelier exploded under his magic and the pieces rained down on her, covering her. She shielded her head with her hands and staggered backwards, over the sheets where she had made love to Bellatrix mere minutes before. There was nothing left now. Everything was destroyed. And she would die here today.

"My child," spoke Voldemort and she looked up through her eyelashes. He stood in front of her, bare foot, and his large, white hand yielded his wand. An invisible strength pulled her up, brought her to her feet and she was forced to look up at him. She saw him properly for the first time and tried to recognise the features of the man he has once been. She had heard Harry describe him once; how he had been attractive in his day. That was long gone now. This man, this creature, was her Father but all she saw was a monster. A monster that had destroyed in the last few weeks everything she had held most dear.

"Father," she spoke slowly, her voice a broken whisper. "We meet again."

"I never wished for it to come to this," said Voldemort slowly and his dark, thin tongue slipped out of his mouth. His fiery red eyes flickered in his almost see through face. She wanted to remember him, see him, as she died. See the face of the man that made her and destroyed her. Her heart was beating slowly, calmly, in her chest. A steady sign of life. It knew no fear. "You see, my child, you have survived the odds. That night in the forest was not meant to happen. By now I know you are aware of your mother's magic, of what she did to me."

"She swore you would never live forever," Hermione answered and glanced down. She was hovering several inches above the ground, held up by nothing else but invisible magic. Her way lay across the room, near the wall. She was helpless and at his mercy. "She swore you would die whenever victory was about to become yours. With her death the spell moved on to her only child. _Your_ child."

There was hatred in his eyes now that she spoke of her mother's love for her. She had died knowing the spell would move on. It lived in her blood. But the anger extended to something beyond Hermione's understanding and she felt a brief hint of fear before the magical bounds broke and her body crashed to the floor. She sat on her hands and knees and watched him circle her. She had never seen a purer form of hatred, not even when he had looked at Harry. He hated her, his own child, more than anything. She stayed down on her knees, in front of him and folded her hands in her lap. What happened next was the most excruciating form of torture she had ever experienced.

Every time the Cruciatus Curse left her Father's lips it cut through her life a thousand knives slicing through her skin. It tore apart her insides and rushed through her blood like acid. Blood poured from her nose, her ears, and her mouth as her body jerked and writhed. Her cries were smothered by the taste of her blood on her tongue. His spells were unforgiving. Bruises began to cover her skin whenever his wand came down in a slashing motion, lashing at her skin like a whip. Bleeding gashes covered her back, her knees, her arms, and her stomach. The colour drained from her face with every blow. She felt sick and her stomach emptied itself onto the floor. She heaved so much that she vomited blood not long after. The acid from her stomach burnt her throat. He would kill her but he wasn't going to do it quickly. He made her suffer like he had suffered every defeat.

She lay curled up into a ball, in her own vomit and with blood covering her skin. She had pulled her knees up to her chest and her fingers were extended, as if to reach for something that was long gone. Her jumper was ripped, exposing the deep gashes across her back. Her thick curls had fallen into her eyes. Silent tears streamed down her face and she did not even flinch or move when he walked around her and touched her with his foot. She merely rolled onto her back and stared up at the spot where the crystal chandelier had been. Her chest was rising and falling slowly and her heart softly pounded in her chest. She forced herself to look at him one last time. She had lost everything.

She never looked away when his wand came down one last time.


	25. The Last Breath

**Chapter 25**

Death was almost a welcome fate as she lay staring up at him. The man who had given her life was about to take it away. Her fingers twitched, stained with blood. One last desperate, feeble attempt to reach for the woman who had left minutes ago. Bellatrix was long gone and the sound of her laughter had died out. She was gone, with their child. The illusions of the love that was never to be came crumbling down. She had always known that she would never love her. Whatever part of her had dared to hope, had dared to desire, had been fooled. She should have known better. Her craving for her, her sickening obsession had destroyed everything she had once known. There was nothing left.

The wand slashed down and her body seized under the sharp pain. She had hoped he would kill her but a taunting smile lingered on his face. He stared down at her like had stared down at Harry. Like he had stared down at all the others he had killed throughout the years. So much more blood than just that of his daughter would forever stain his hands. She forced herself to look up at him, to see his eyes and forever memorise the face of the monster from which she came. And as her eyes finally fluttered shut, too tired and too overwhelmed by pain, she turned her head away and took one last deep breath, ready to face in inevitable absolution of death.

"P-please," she managed to whisper. She tasted her own blood on her tongue, her lips. She begged for him to kill her. She begged for him to let her die.

"My child," spoke her Father almost tenderly and he leant down as if to touch her. His finger was now stained with her blood and he studied her beaten, bruised and swollen face. "Death it often considered a welcome visitor." His wand slowly aimed at her chest. Her stomach clenched and her heartbeat increased. Through her eyelids she looked at him, too weak to move. The pain was excruciating. She desired death. His wand was now aimed at her heart. "So you shall have it."

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

The voice belonged to a man but she could not find the strength to turn her head and look at the door. Voldemort spun around as his wand soared through the air and landed in the outstretched palm of Kingsley Shacklebolt. An angry scream echoed around the house, bounced off the stone walls. The room was suddenly full of voices, full of life. Hermione whimpered and closed her eyes, whishing the images would go away. They were not supposed to be here. She was supposed to be alone; she was supposed to die. A strangled cry left her lips as she heard footsteps come nearer.

"NO!" It was another voice. She couldn't identify this one either. Her eyes were too heavy, she was too tired. Her heart was beating just a little bit slower. The pressure in her chest was mounting as the blood slowly trickled down her throat, into her lungs. She coughed but could not find the strength to fight for air. With every breath it felt tighter and her eyes began to roll back into her head. The world changed into a blur and voices disappeared into the distance. The last thing she saw was a face, right beside her own, and then the world went black.

"We can't wait!" said Minerva as she dropped to her knees beside Hermione and desperately cradled the young brunette in her arms. She placed her fingers on her neck but felt nothing. Scared, emerald green eyes widened at the realisation she could not feel life and she scooped her up into her arms. Around her, people surrounded Voldemort, all with their wands drawn. But it was the lone figure in the door way, the last one to enter, who looked most horrified of all. Narcissa stood in the wide open doors of the house that had once been her home and stared at the wizard, the monster that had taken everything away from her. She saw Kingsley clutch Voldemort's wand but she knew he was almost as dangerous and as strong without it. And she did not think. Whilst the others cast Stunning Spell after Stunning Spell and other bright coloured jets of light destroyed the house in which she had grown up, she slowly raised her arm and aimed her wand at Voldemort's chest.

It seemed too easy.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

At the sound of her voice the whole room turned around. Various sets of eyes were now fixated on the crying woman in the open door. Narcissa did not even watch to see whether her spell hit target. She had turned to Minerva, who walked past her with Hermione in her arms. The young brunette was lifeless, her badly beaten body covered in blood and vomit. Her mouth was slightly open and her eyes closed. Narcissa reached out a hand to brush away a stray curl but could not quite touch her. Minerva merely looked at her and then turned on the spot, taking Hermione with her. Behind them Voldemort cried and Narcissa looked back at him. He stared at her like he had stared at Hermione. Deranged, disillusioned perhaps. But the hatred was still alive in his eyes and as if in slow motion Narcissa watched it die. His red eyes lit up as the spell hit target, right where his heart would be. And then he slumped down, onto his knees, like he had forced his daughter to. A single white hand extended itself and then fell down beside his body. He fell face forward and remained there, motionless.

Narcissa did not hesitate and turned on the spot without even confirming whether Voldemort was dead. She felt nothing, not even the tears trickling down her cheeks. She watched Arthur and Kingsley hurry over to him, wands drawn and ready to respond if he was still alive. It was Kingsley who looked back and their eyes met briefly before she vanished. What she saw in them she couldn't tell.

When she reappeared she was standing outside St Mungo's. She made her way in and followed the signs of the Magical Injuries and Emergencies Department and ignored one of the Healers who asked whether she needed anything. She rushed past patients, Healers and medi-witches carrying trays of potions. Her heart hammered in her chest and when she finally reached the department and pushed open the doors, she found herself surrounded by a strange silence. The Emergency Department seemed abandoned and Narcissa stood frozen for a moment until she registered the sound of voices coming from a room down the hall.

Just when she reached the door Minerva came walking out, staring at the floor. Narcissa grabbed her arms and tried to push past her, into the room, but the Headmistress stopped her and green eyes found dark brown. For a few seconds Narcissa could not speak and she merely stared at the older witch. There was a glimmer of hope flickering in Minerva's eyes and Narcissa let her breath escape.

"They are helping her now," said Minerva calmly and gently pushed Narcissa towards some of the seats across the hall. There the younger witch slumped down and stared helplessly at the floor. "We were just in time, Narcissa. They think she will be all right. Eventually."

"What did he do to her?" Narcissa asked with a constricted voice and fumbled nervously with her fingers.

"He beat her within an inch of her life," Minerva said and there was spite in her words. She sat down beside Narcissa and folded her hands in her lap. "The Healers said there is no sign of defensive wounds anywhere. He either stopped her from fighting back or…" Her voice died out and they both knew what she had been about to say. They sat quietly side by side as behind closed doors the Healers attempted to save Hermione's life. Minutes went by and neither of them spoke.

Minerva cast Narcissa a sideways glance. The younger witch looked tired and forlorn and Minerva reached for her hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. "How did you know where she was?"

"Bellatrix used to love our family home," Narcissa answered softly and sighed. "It used to be her pride. She came back long after our parents had died. I don't know why I thought of it. It just seemed to fit." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Minerva. I should have been honest with all of you straight from the beginning but…" She swallowed hard. "Hermione begged me not to tell you. She even attempted to erase my memory, that's how desperate she was. She knew what she was doing was wrong."

Minerva slowly nodded. The night Hermione stormed out of the Burrow was the night Narcissa had told the full truth. She had told them Hermione had been Bellatrix's lover ever since she returned and that her obsessions had taken over her life long before that. She had explained to them that she felt responsible for the deaths of Harry and Ron, even if they were not necessarily directly her fault. And she couldn't turn away from Bellatrix's poison, not even whilst she knew somebody else loved her so much more. It was the darkest trap of love; the one that left a person to destroy themselves. Many good men and woman had died because of love and because of what it had done to them. Love bordered closely onto obsession and obsession blurred the lines of sanity.

"Sometimes we cannot help what happens to us," Minerva said slowly and sighed. The Hermione Granger she had known back at Hogwarts was not the same woman who she had cradled in her arms tonight. Too much had changed. She wasn't the same anymore. "But I feel heartbroken when I think of this child. It is almost as if history repeats itself. Bellatrix left Hermione there to die. She betrayed her not once, but twice and even though Hermione knew, she still went back with her."

"She thought of that child," Narcissa said slowly and a lonely tear found its way down her cheek. "With Bellatrix out there, alone, who knows what will become of it. Unless she seeks Hermione out again, I do not dare think what will happen. I doubt that after tonight, now that her master is dead, we will ever see again."

"Dead?" Minerva's eyebrows shot up.

Narcissa looked at Minerva. "Voldemort is dead."

The door swung open and Narcissa's head whipped around. A Healer came walking out. He was about the same age as Hermione and looked at Narcissa and Minerva. There was something calming about his voice. His kind blue eyes rested on Narcissa, as she seemed most distraught. "She is stable. One of you may go in and see her now. I am sure she would appreciate a friendly face when she wakes up. If the other would be so kind as to come with me and provide me with her details?"

"You go," Minerva said softly as they both stood up and pushed Narcissa towards the door. For a few seconds Narcissa seemed reluctant but then she walked towards the room. Minerva followed the Healer down the corridor and glanced back over her shoulder to see Narcissa walk into Hermione's room. She smiled to herself as the door closed and then turned to the Healer and helped him fill out the paperwork.

Narcissa closed the door behind her and then her eyes drifted to the bed. Hermione seemed pale, even against the crisp white sheets of the bed. Her brown curls lay sprawled out across the pillow. The bruising on her face had been reduced, yet she still looked swollen. There were cuts and grazes on her hands and fingers, as far as Narcissa could see. Her chest was rising and falling slowly and she seemed soundly asleep. Narcissa pulled the arm chair nearer to the bed and sat down. She leant forward and took Hermione's hand. It felt cold in her own.

"Silly girl," she whispered softly and rubbed the palm of Hermione's hand with her thumb. "What were you thinking, running away like that? Did you really think that because you made mistakes people would stop loving you? Did you really believe that some of us wouldn't want to be with you anymore? They all know the truth now and they still care, Hermione. They were all worried and scared. All Teddy has done for the last two days if ask his grandmother why she is crying. You hear that? Andromeda has been crying for two days because you were gone. She couldn't bear losing another person she loved. I love you just as much as I did before, Hermione. Mistakes don't make us bad people, Hermione. They make us stronger; they tell us what we have learnt. No one blames you. They want to understand. They want you to get better because they love you too."

There was some movement behind Hermione's eyelids but she did not open her eyes. Narcissa searched her face and tried to see beyond the bruises and the swelling. A sad smile lingered on her face as she held the brunette's hand and she tried not to think about what would happen in the future. She sat back in the arm chair, curled her legs up underneath her and never took her eyes off Hermione's face.

~()~

Hermione did not open her eyes until late the next day. Narcissa lay curled up in the arm chair, her head resting on her arms. She had managed to catch a few hours of disturbed sleep and her body was aching but she had refused Minerva's offer to go home and switch places. Instead she had eaten the food one of the Healers had brought her, which was of the standards expected in a hospital and left her wondering why she did not end up in a bed herself. Her hair fell in thick strands down the sides of her face, having freed itself from the little clip that held it in place. As soon as the brunette stirred, she sat up and reached for Hermione's hand. And she held it as the younger woman's eyes opened and she blinked against the light in the room. Hazel eyes began to take in their surroundings and eventually found the woman sitting beside her. A hesitant smile broke through on Hermione's face.

"I take it I didn't die then." Her voice was groggy.

Narcissa smiled. "Not unless this is your idea of Heaven."

Hermione didn't answer and she swallowed. She searched Narcissa's face and could see the worry reflecting in her eyes. She only had some vague memories of how things had ended up like this. Her memory was mostly a blur and a pained expression spread across her face. "What happened?"

"There will be a time to talk about that but this is not it," answered Narcissa softly and rubbed Hermione's hand. "For now we just need to get you strong and healthy. You know, everybody is desperate to see you. They have been so terribly worried."

"I doubt that," Hermione said softly and averted her eyes.

"Andromeda wanted to camp outside your room," Narcissa answered and she watched Hermione's lips curl up into a little smile yet she still did not meet her eyes. Now she smiled herself as the memory of her stubborn sister flooded back into her mind. "I told her that she'd probably be more comfortable in her own bed because believe me, these chairs were not made for sleeping in. Minerva has come to check on you every few hours and Molly was beside herself."

"I lied to them for weeks, months," Hermione sounded bitter and turned her head so she could look at Narcissa. Through the bruises and the swelling it was clear she was upset. "They have no reason to be worried for me. If anything, I had expected them to wish I had died."

"Hermione!" Narcissa corrected her loudly and Hermione's eyes darkened. "I do not ever want to hear you say such a thing again!"

Reluctantly Hermione nodded and she sighed. She felt tired and her body ached all over. She wanted to go back to sleep but there were too many questions, too many things that she wanted to know. She reached up and rubbed her eyes. The sight of the cuts on her hands made her gasp and the first memories began to emerge from the depths of her mind. Her voice was hoarse and weak. "What about _him_?"

"He's dead," Narcissa said firmly and Hermione's eyes slowly fluttered shut. "It's all over now."

There was a hint of a memory flickering behind Hermione's eyes and her face briefly flinched. Narcissa knew she had remembered something and her fingers closed a little tighter around Hermione's. Just before Hermione drifted back off to sleep, she whispered something else. The words Narcissa had been dreading to hear. "What about Bellatrix? Our baby?"

"She's out there somewhere," Narcissa answered softly and rubbed Hermione's hand until she knew the brunette was asleep. The idea of her sister out there, carrying a child that was as much hers as it was Hermione's, left her worried and she felt for Hermione; the not knowing what would ever become of it. "She's still out there, my love. They are both still out there."

~()~

It was another three days before the Healers felt confident enough for Hermione to leave the hospital. Through her window she had watched the world change. The sun broke through the thick grey clouds and erased the darkness and mist that had been lingering around, pressed against the glass. Now its tender beams fell into her hospital room as she gathered her things. There were several bunches of flowers, some horrible singing card that George had sent her and would sing some rude song whenever it was opened and a box of Chocoballs that Hermione had already promised to Andromeda as soon as she got home. She zipped up her bag and flinched as she tried to pick it up. The Healers had managed to treat the deep gashes on her back but her skin was still raw and sensitive. The door opened and she turned around. Narcissa stood in the open doorway, with Molly Weasley behind her. Hermione had refused to see any of them, too embarrassed to speak to them after everything that had happened. But now that she saw her, a smile broke through on her face and she beamed from ear to ear.

"Hermione!" Molly said and filed past Narcissa and wrapped the brunette up in her arms. When they broke apart she searched the brunette's face. There was happiness in Molly's eyes. "Did Narcissa tell you the news?"

Hermione smiled and her eyes briefly found Narcissa. Only she detected the hint of regret in Hermione's voice when she answered Molly's question. "About Ginny and the baby? Everything went well, didn't it? Cissy says he looks just like Harry. Looks like she left this place a lot quicker than I did." She watched Molly pick up her bag and felt a little forlorn as the red haired woman marched out of her room. She sighed sadly and followed her out. "I can't wait to meet him."

She closed the door to her hospital room behind her and made no effort to catch up with Molly, who was walking ahead and seemed to glow with the pride only known to grandmothers. Ginny had gone into labour on Boxing Day and after ten hours of misery, according to Narcissa, she had given birth to a baby boy. Apparently he looked just like Harry, with the same dark hair and the same bright green eyes. She had been sent home the day after and had been staying at the Burrow ever since. Narcissa had said she suspected Ginny to sell the country house now that Harry was gone.

"Are you ready for this?" Narcissa asked as they walked out of the hospital and into the London Streets. Molly had disappeared and Hermione guessed she had gone straight home. She stood outside, in the cold winter sunshine, and took in a few deep breaths. The air seemed fresher and cleaner and around her she could see the first signs of rebuilding. Everywhere people seemed to be working, both Muggle and wizard alike. Whatever had been destroying their world was now gone. There was a sense of hope in the air. People were smiling again and they walked around the streets, going around their usual business. The world had moved on. She sighed and looked at Narcissa. An eyebrow shot up.

"If I say no will you take me somewhere where I never have to see any of them again?"

Narcissa wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders and ran her fingers through her brown curls. "No, I am afraid I can't do that. Andromeda will personally lynch me if I don't bring you back with me."

Hermione nodded reluctantly. "Well, I suppose we'd better be going then."

She slipped her hand in Narcissa's as they reached the safe Apparition spot in a small alley between St Mungo's and an empty bookstore. There they turned on the spot and left London behind. When they reappeared they were standing outside the Burrow and Hermione felt her heart sink in her chest at the sight of the house. She had missed Harry's funeral and she had stormed out of this house in anger and yet nobody resented her for what she had done, for what had gone wrong. She hesitated in walking towards the door and Narcissa gently gave her a push in the right direction. She began walking, slowly, and eventually her fingers closed around the door handle and she stepped into the kitchen. Before she could even look at who was there, someone flung their arms around her neck and thick, dark curls tickled her face.

"Andy, I'm afraid you're chocking me," Hermione said after several seconds and Andromeda let go of her. She looked at the darker haired woman and tried not to seek out the resemblance to Bellatrix like she used to. She forced herself to smile and Andromeda's hand briefly cupped her cheek. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, Hermione," Andromeda smiled and she nodded in the direction of the living room. The strange cooing sounds from Molly Weasley over the new born baby carried into the kitchen and Hermione felt her heart drop. But Andromeda didn't notice and gently took her hand, leading her towards the living room. "I think there is someone who wants to meet you."

Walking into the living room and seeing Ginny sitting on the sofa, cradling a small bundle of blankets, made Hermione's heart freeze. She stared at her friend, who looked so much younger than the last time she saw her. Ginny was smiling as she looked at the little human being she held in her arms and Hermione carefully, almost reluctantly, entered the room and sat down beside her. Without asking, Ginny handed her the baby and Hermione tried to reposition herself, uncomfortably, whilst carefully holding the little bundle in her arms. He was perfect. He had a tiny nose, a small cleft in his chin and a tuff of dark hair peeped out from under the blanket. His eyes were closed but even now she could see how much this little boy looked like his father. She hoped he would one day understand why his father wasn't there to watch him grow up. She felt tears well up in her eyes looking at the baby and wondered instantly about the child growing in Bellatrix. Their child. Would it be a boy or a girl? Who would it look like? Would it ever look at her and know she was his or her mother too? Would she ever hold her own child like she held Ginny's?

"It suits you," Narcissa said smiling from the open door way. Hermione looked up to meet her eyes and Narcissa understood.

It was strange being back at the Burrow. Nobody spoke about what had happened. It was almost like a secret that everybody knew but was not mentioned. Everything seemed to be focused on the baby, named Harry after his father. Hermione sat with the little boy for ages and watched him sleep in her arms. She even accepted Ginny's offer to give him his bottle and throughout all of this, Narcissa watched her. People came and went. Kingsley brought an update on the Ministry's recovery and how they were aiding in the rebuilding of destroyed homes. He also told them that Voldemort's body had not been buried but destroyed. He left with the words that this would never happen again. Hermione had given Harry back to Ginny and rushed after Kingsley and caught him just before he left. He had looked at her as if he had known what it was she came to ask. She needn't say the words.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I understand you need to know but nobody has seen Bellatrix."

She watched him leave and stood outside for some time after Kingsley had gone and as the winter sun set behind the horizon and painted the sky in shades of orange and red he she came to the sad conclusion that perhaps there was nothing else she could do but reconcile with the fact that she would never see Bellatrix, or her child, again.


	26. To Undo What Time Has Done

**A/N: **I have one more after this. An epilogue of sorts, if you like. I am so very grateful for all of you who have stuck with me throughout this story. Those of you who loyally reviewed every chapter, those of you who read silently and those who favourited this story, all of you, are awesome. It wouldn't have been the same had it not been for all your wonderful comments and that endless flow of messages in my inbox telling me this story was appreciated. This story was never going to have a complete happy ending, as it doesn't lie in the character's nature. There is something about the pairing Bellatrix/Hermione that just doesn't spell "happy ending" for me. There is hope, there are smiles an there are memories. Sometimes that is all it takes for an ending to be less painful. So I thank you all for your kindness throughout the last few weeks. ~Cissy

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**Chapter 26**

_And in the middle of the night, I may watch you go_  
_There'll be no value in the strength of walls that I have grown_  
_There'll be no comfort in the shade of the shadows thrown_  
_You may not trust the promises of the change I'll show_  
_But I'll be yours if you'll be mine__  
~Mumford & Sons - Lover Of The Light_

The days had begun to fade into weeks and the New Year had started with January rain showers. It was as if the rain washed away the remainder of the darkness and the dust that had surrounded them for so long. With the passing weeks the world had begun to rebuild itself and Hermione soon found that she no longer wanted to stay at the Burrow. She could barely stand the idea of spending any more time with Ginny and baby Harry. Whenever she held him she thought about her own child, though many around her seemed to have forgotten there even was one. No one spoke of Bellatrix. They had forgiven her for what had happened and she knew they tried to forget. It was only Narcissa who saw the pained expression whenever she held the baby and gave him another bottle or watched Ginny coo over her little boy. And it was only Narcissa who sometimes saw her fondly gaze out of the window into the world outside.

She found another apartment, on the other side of London, and moved in at the beginning of February. It was bigger than her previous one, with large windows that overlooked the Thames. Yet every weekend she showed up at the Burrow, at Molly's request, for Sunday lunch. Everybody would be there. Draco and Astoria, who had announced their engagement and would marry in the summer, Andromeda and Teddy, who enjoyed throwing his dinner at the ceiling to see if it would stick, and Narcissa, who often arrived with Hermione. Neither had tried to identify their relationship. Some things were better left unsaid.

It was during one of those Sundays that they were all sitting around and the flames in the fireplace unexpectedly roared up. Molly turned around, ready to greet the unexpected arrival, but found instead the head of a Healer in the flames. A frown appeared on her head and she knelt down beside the fireplace and she and the Healer talked for a few minutes. Then she stood up and walked to Hermione, who was sitting on the arm rest of the sofa and was watching Teddy change his hair at random to please his grandmother. Andromeda was smiling absentmindedly.

"Hermione, there is someone here who would like to speak with you," Molly whispered and Hermione looked up. Narcissa followed her with her eyes and watched as Hermione knelt down by the fire.

"Miss Hermione Granger?" asked the unfamiliar Healer and Hermione nodded. She had never seen the Healer before in her life but he clearly knew who she was. She could feel Narcissa's eyes burn in her back and leant a little closer to the fire so no one could overhear what was said. "I have an urgent message for you to come to St Mungo's immediately."

"Who is it that is requesting my presence?" Hermione asked, sounding reserved, but her eyes had already located the small box containing Floo Powder and she checked whether she carried her wand in her pocket. Satisfied it was there she fixed her eyes back on the Healer.

"She didn't give her name, Miss. She just asked for us to call for you," answered the Healer and Hermione cocked her head. Her natural curiosity had been triggered. She didn't know of anybody who could possibly have ended up in St Mungo's and ask for her but she stood up anyway. The Healer took it as a sign of rejection. "She did not ask for anything else."

"Very well. I'll be there in a few minutes," answered Hermione and reached for the Floo Powder. She hear d someone stand up and suspected it was Narcissa. She didn't look around and instead took a small hand of Floo Powder and stepped into the fireplace. As she turned around in the flames she found Narcissa looking at her questioningly. Since she had moved out Narcissa has grown even more protective of her. She gave her an encouraging smile. "Don't worry, Cissy. I'll be back shortly."

She stepped out of the fireplace on the other end and brushed the ashes of her clothes. Dressed in simple jeans and a grey jumper she looked casual yet smart. She had bound her hair back in a loose ponytail and pushed a stubborn strand that had wiggled its way free back behind her ear. The Healer whose head she had seen in the flames waited for her and she greeted him by shaking his hand. He seemed to recognise her as the sole survivor of the Golden Trio but said nothing. Instead she followed him across a lengthy corridor, into a lift to the third floor and across another corridor before reaching a room at the end of the hall. There the Healer stopped and turned to look at Hermione.

"She came to us in a weak and very fragile state. We don't think she will make it to the end of the day. All she said was your name, over and over. We have no idea what she did to herself but when she got here. Well, we only just managed to save both of them." He opened the door and revealed a similar white room as she had woken up herself only a few weeks ago. Hermione stepped inside and waited for the door to close before walking into the room. Her heart pounded in her chest and she slowly turned to face the bed.

The woman that lay against the pillows was someone she had never seen before. She had short cropped blonde hair which looked like it had once been neatly kept. Her face was gaunt; her skin a dull tone of grey and her eyes had sunken deep back into her skull. She looked unhealthily skinny and thin almost claw like fingers, rested on the bed sheets. It was only when she heard a sound that had by now had become familiar that Hermione discovered the small crib standing beside the bed. And there, wrapped up in white blankets, lay a beautiful baby girl. She had her eyes open and seemed to look up into the world in surprise. Her eyes were a strange shade of brown, unusual for new born babies and she had raven black hair.

"Hermione?" whispered a broken voice and Hermione tore her eyes away from the crib. The woman in the bed had opened her eyes. Once they would have been stunning blue but now they were dull and missed the spark of life and they were bloodshot. The woman in the bed could be no older than thirty but time had been unkind to her. "Is that you?"

"Yes," Hermione answered softly and searched the woman's face for anything she could recognise. But her mind remained empty. She had no memories of this woman. She did not know who she was. "But I am afraid I don't know who you are, Miss."

"Yes, you do," the woman answered and she let her breath escape. It was as if she was finally letting go of something she had desperately been clinging on to. And there, before her eyes, the transformation happened. Blonde hair began to grow, down her neck to her shoulders. It became darker, thicker and the curls appeared and fell down the sides of her face. Blue eyes changed to black and the gaunt expression was replaced by what once had been the strong, beautiful features of the Black family. Bellatrix was thinner than Hermione remembered but other than that she had not changed at all. Her heart shattered as she stared at her. "You know who I am."

"Bella," Hermione breathed and felt tears well up in her eyes. She looked at the woman who had almost destroyed her and grasped her hand. In that instant she forgot how she had left her to die with Voldemort. How she had betrayed her twice. Her heart broke in her chest. "How…"

"Hush," spoke Bellatrix softly and her voice sounded strangely dry. It was the voice of someone who was close to death. She looked at Hermione with a strange tenderness, something so unlike anything else Hermione had seen in her eyes before. Her hand felt cold and unfamiliar in Hermione's, like it wasn't really hers. Hermione brought it to her lips and kissed it gently. "There is no time for questions. I am dying, Hermione. You are my only hope." She reached out a hand to the crib and Hermione followed her gesture. The feeling she had when she first saw the baby was now confirmed. "I used all the magic I could to save her. It was all that I could do. Take her with you, away from here. When the Healer comes back and finds out whom her mother is they will take her."

Hermione felt a tear trickle down her cheek as she carefully reached into the crib and picked up the baby. Feeling her under her fingers, knowing she was alive, made her heart race faster in her chest. She was so perfect, so beautiful, and so small. Now that she looked at her she could see it. The resemblance was there. The little girl had her nose but had inherited Bellatrix's mouth and the same dark hair. A tiny little hand peeked out from under the blanket. Five perfect little fingers. She turned to look at Bellatrix. The raven haired Death Eater was pale and looked tired and rested against the pillows on her bed. There were dark circles around her eyes but they were fixed on her daughter.

"I don't know if I can…" Hermione began but her words trailed off when Bellatrix extended her arms. Carefully Hermione placed their daughter in the raven haired woman's arms and watched how for a moment the life returned in those charcoal eyes. The image of the Death Eater holding her daughter brought tears to Hermione's eyes. Bellatrix looked at the child she was never meant to know and tried to smile. Her breaths were irregular and she seemed to fight for every single one. Her eyes drifted off to find Hermione's and she swallowed hard. Every word was an effort.

"When the day comes, just tell her that I tried my best to safe her," Bellatrix whispered. "I tried."

Hermione felt the tears stream down her face and she leant in. Gently she placed her lips on Bellatrix's and kissed her. She knew the raven haired woman could taste her tears, like she had tasted them before. She stayed near her, close to her chest, and searched for her hand. She knew she would lose her and that she would never look out of another window, wondering whether she would ever see her again. It was a twisted end to their sick romance. The harsh reality of what was never to be. She watched as the life slowly faded in her eyes until she drifted off into a quiet slumber. When her chest no longer moved, Hermione took a step back and tried to dry her tears. With the Polyjuice Potion worn off it wouldn't take the Healers a second to realise who she really was. Bellatrix Lestrange was dead.

Hermione picked up the little girl still lying in Bellatrix's arms and placed her securely against her own chest. She leant in and kissed Bellatrix's forehead. She let her raven curls run through her fingers one last time. She would have to leave her, like Bellatrix had left her before. She turned around just as the door opened and drew her wand before the Healer entered. Aiming it she whispered "Imperio" and watched the man's eyes glaze over. He turned around and she followed him out of the room and back through the corridor. Throughout it all the baby never once cried and it wasn't until she left St Mungo's that she realised what she had just done and what had just happened. She turned around and looked back at the building behind her. She felt sad and broken and it wasn't until the new born in her arms wiggled around in her blanket that she became aware she was still holding her.

She dried her tears and looked down at her daughter. "It's just you and me now."

~()~

She arrived back at the Burrow not much later and hurried her way into the house. She felt heartbroken and torn and was desperate to see a familiar face. Molly, who had been standing in the kitchen, watched her walk towards the door and quickly let her in when she realised Hermione was carrying something. Once in the comfortable warmth of the kitchen, Hermione carefully unfolded some of the blankets and found her daughter had fallen asleep in her arms. She smiled through her tears and Molly gasped in shock at the sight of the baby and staggered backwards before coming to a rest against the counter.

"Everything all right in…" Narcissa asked as she walked in but she froze when she saw Hermione standing in the middle of the kitchen, cradling her child. Her dark eyes widened. Slowly she came closer and curiously peered at the bundle in Hermione's arms. There was disbelief in her eyes. "Impossible."

"She said she did everything she could to safe her," Hermione whispered and ran her index finger across her daughter's cheek. The tears were still flowing down her face and her voice was soft and broken. Her daughter had that typical new baby smell. She had hated on Harry when Ginny first gave him to her but now that she held her own daughter she did not mind. She looked at the bundle of innocence in her arms and tears trickled silently down her cheeks as she realised how much she really looked like Bellatrix. "She was dying, Cissy. She did everything she could."

"I have heard of magically speeding up a pregnancy before but never to this extent," Narcissa whispered and she seemed mesmerized by the beauty of the baby in Hermione's arms. The little girl was sleeping peacefully, unaware of the surprise her arrival had caused. She was oblivious to it all. "She would have drained herself of every possibly nutrient her body possessed if she sped up her pregnancy this much. It can be done but it is highly dangerous and needs constant monitoring by Healers. I have never known any witch to give birth a mere eight weeks after conceiving, not even those whose pregnancy was completely magical in the first place."

Hermione never moved her eyes away from her daughter's face. She was soundly asleep. The image of Bellatrix was imprinted in her brain. Their daughter looked so much like her. Her heart ached as she thought of her, dying before her eyes. "She said she was dying."

"That may have had something to do with how she came to be here in the first place," said Kingsley's voice and he appeared from the living room. Hermione wondered when he had arrived. His dark eyes fixed on the baby in her arms. "Do you remember how it happened that Bellatrix and the Dark Lord were brought back from the dead? Walden MacNair used the Ruby Hyacinth and the Greek mythology legend that comes with it. The magic of the flower states that its life is seemingly endless. When one treats its right, it will restore itself no matter how damaged or destroyed. Then the magic within can be used to bring back the trapped souls of the underworld."

"That is what brought body and soul back together," Hermione said slowly and rocked her daughter slowly from left to right. One day she would tell her about her mother. When the time was right and she knew she would understand. But right now she had no clue how to care for a new born. She wasn't even prepared to have a child though this seemed like the wrong time to panic. She let her eyes drift up to meet Kingsley's. "And what resulted into another war."

"Indeed," answered Kingsley slowly "But there was one thing MacNair forgot about the legend. One thing neither Bellatrix nor Voldemort knew. In order for the joined bodies and souls to continue living, the flower must be blooming." He paused and the harsh reality of what he was saying began to sink in. "The Hyacinth was destroyed during the battle at MacNair castle. From that moment onwards, it was a matter of time before Bellatrix Lestrange would die again. Her body and soul no longer belonged together. Without the flower, she could not live."

"She must have known something was happening," Hermione said as she looked down at the sleeping baby in her arms. "She must have somehow known. She did everything she could not to lose this child. She drank Polyjuice Potion before going to St Mungo's and asked for me. The Potion wore off while I was there." She swallowed as she remembered Bellatrix lying in the bed, pale and tired. She knew she would never see her again. It was over. By now the Healers would have found her and she did not even want to think about what they were going to do with her body. "She knew the Healers would take her child away if they found out who she really was. She begged me to take her with me."

"They just let you walk out with a baby?" Narcissa questioned and Hermione looked up.

"I'm a witch, Cissy. I helped myself a little."

"Well, let's get you settled in," Molly said and by now she was positively beaming. There were two babies in the house she got to fuss over now. She gently pushed Hermione towards the living room and there they found Ginny. Hermione sat down next her, holding her own daughter as Ginny cradled her son. They sat beside each other and when their eyes met Hermione knew that Ginny understood, as strange as it sounded. They both had lost their lover; their children would never know their other parent.

"I am not ready for this," Hermione whispered and looked up to Narcissa. When she saw the older witch look at the baby in her arms she reached out for her, handing her daughter to her. She watched how she took her into her arms and looked down at the flawless little face, with her mother's strong features already visible. It was clear even now she had inherited Hermione's eyes but also Bellatrix's hair. "How am I supposed to ever look after her? I know nothing about babies! I haven't even got a bottle to feed her with!"

"I have some things left over from when Teddy was little," Andromeda said as she looked over Narcissa's shoulder to the baby that was her new born cousin. "I shall ask Arthur to help me get it for you. And I am sure Molly would love to accompany me and buy you the things you need…" Her bright eyes found Hermione's and she smiled as she ran her finger across the baby's cheek. "Don't worry Hermione; you won't be alone in this."

"This is so unreal," Hermione whispered and she seemed almost desperate. Her hazel eyes wandered around the room, not looking at anything in particular "All of this…" She pulled back her sleeve and revealed the silver scars on her forearm. She traced the word with her fingers and the memories were as vivid as ever before. It was what had started it. It had been the moment Bellatrix had crept under her skin, poisoned her from the inside out, and destroyed her. "…started with this."

"Have you thought of a name yet?" Ginny asked unexpectedly and Hermione was snapped out of her musings. She looked at her friend and her throat became dry. She looked bewildered.

"A name? I haven't even come to terms with the fact I am a mother yet!"

"She will need a name," Narcissa said kindly and smiled. "We can't keep calling her baby girl forever."

"Right," Hermione answered and frowned. This was all far too much for her, far too overwhelming. She fumbled with her fingers and her voice was reduced to a whisper. "Now where do I find a name?"

"There was a tradition in the Black family to name children after stars and constellations," Andromeda said and she glanced at Narcissa. The youngest sister's eyebrows shot up. Narcissa was the one who wasn't named after either. Andromeda grinned. "Or the odd flower, perhaps."

Narcissa handed Hermione's daughter to Andromeda and walked up to the young brunette. "Come on," she said softly and helped her get up. "You need some rest." She helped her up the stairs and they walked into the bedroom that had once been Ron's. Narcissa flicked her wand and the bed appeared out of nowhere. There were cushions in all shapes and sizes and the duvet looked soft and comfortable. Hermione groaned as she let her body fall down and almost instantly curled up into a ball. Narcissa lay down beside her, wrapped an arm around her waist and listened as Hermione's breathing became deeper. For the first time in weeks Hermione slept. And Narcissa watched over her as she tried not to think about the future of the child downstairs.

~()~

She slept for nearly fifteen hours. It was a magical yet dreamless sleep. When she woke up it was early morning. She heard the chickens outside and the soft sunlight fell through the open curtains into the room. Hermione blinked a few times and then became aware of the body that lay beside her, an arm tenderly draped across her waist. She turned to look and found Narcissa asleep. For the first time in what felt like forever Narcissa looked peaceful and Hermione smiled. And in that moment she remembered what had happened the day before and she sat up with a jolt. Her unexpected movements woke up Narcissa and she reached for Hermione's arm.

"What is it?" she asked softly and Hermione looked at her.

"I forgot all about her." Hermione sounded horrified. She felt strangely hollow and empty inside, as if her body had only now begun to realise what she had lost in the last few weeks. She felt numb. "Where is she, Cissy?"

"Downstairs. She's with Andy," Narcissa said tenderly and Hermione swung her legs over the end of the bed. Narcissa watched her walk across the room and out of the door, down the stairs and into the living room. She followed Hermione down and by the time she reached the Weasley living area she found Hermione sitting in the arm chair, holding her daughter. She looked at her, fascinated. Andromeda watched from a small distance, a smile lingering on her lips.

"It's terrifying really. She looks more like Bella with every passing hour," Andromeda whispered and Narcissa smiled as she watched Hermione give her daughter her bottle.

"Maybe that isn't such a bad thing."

"What will happen now?" Andromeda wanted to know and glanced at her younger sister for advice. It was a strange thing. Narcissa had always asked her older sisters for help. Now Andromeda turned to her.

Narcissa's eyes remained fixed on Hermione. "We move on, Andy. We pick up the pieces and we build something else." She swallowed hard. She had asked herself that same question over and over again throughout the past few weeks. She had come to terms with what had happened and she knew she had to find a way forward. "We'll make the best out of it."

"Is this the only good that has come out of it all?" Andromeda wondered out loud and her eyes briefly met Hermione's when she looked up. "That little girl will never know her mother, regardless of what she was or wasn't. Ginny's little boy will never know his father and will grow up hearing the same stories about his bravery as Teddy did. Molly and Arthur had to bury another son." She paused and there was a hint of tears in her voice. "But is that little girl really the only good that has come from all of this? Maybe the dead should just be left with the dead, Cissy. There is no room for them amongst the living."

"Tell that to history," Narcissa smiled sadly and slowly walked over to the arm chair where Hermione was sitting. The young brunette looked up and their eyes met. "People never wanted to be separated from the ones they love. Not even by death."

"And what about…" Andromeda began but Narcissa looked at her. Her eyes were enough to silence her sister and she smiled.

"I don't know, Andy. We'll see where time takes us. She has so much to take in, so much still to understand. There are too many things that need to find a place in her life and in her heart. I want her to be able to look at herself and realise who it is she sees," Narcissa answered softly and looked at Hermione as she cradled her new born daughter. "Time will tell. Hermione is a different person now. Things have changed."

"Cissy?" Hermione asked and Narcissa smiled. She slowly walked up to her and sat down on the arm rest of the chair. From where Andromeda stood it was a picture she had never expected to see. And when Narcissa leant in to stroke the baby's face, she saw Hermione smile and look at her sister in a way that, up till that moment, she had not done before.

"Oh things have changed," Andromeda said to herself as she watched how Hermione handed her child to Narcissa and looked at her with a smile. Seeing Hermione happy and look at Narcissa in that way made Andromeda's eyes well up. There was hope. Seeing them together, fitting the pieces back into place and trying to move on was something no words could describe. And Hermione's eyes reflected something now that she looked at Narcissa that she had perhaps known all this time but could not admit. Andromeda could see it.

"People have changed too. People never wanted to be separated from the ones they love. Not by death but also not by life."


	27. Epilogue

**A/N 1:** Arista is a star in the constellation Virgo and is of Greek origin, meaning "the best". It is also the root of the word aristocrat.

**A/N 2:** Well, there you have it. The end of "Dawns of Yesterday". And yes, before you ask, I did it. I went there. I wrote my own epilogue which reads somewhat similar as that horrible ending of DH. Consider it my version of events. Now, back to the praise for all of you, my readers. So many reviews... so many wonderful comments. Thank you all and I hope to see you around for my net story. Once again, my writing would be nothing without all of you. ~ Cissy

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**Chapter 27**

_Epilogue_

11 years later

It had been a warm summer and the sky was blue with only a few tiny puffs of white clouds. Kings Cross Station was perhaps busier than normal this morning. Rushed commuters seemed not in the least surprised to see parents help their excited children across the platforms pushing trolleys containing trunks and cages with the most exotic looking owls. But those very same commuters were unaware of the mystical, magical word that lay hidden behind the wall that separated platforms 9 and 10. It was September 1st and the Hogwarts Express would leave in a few minutes.

"Mom, are you sure they'll be here?" asked a raven haired girl when they made their way through the barrier separating the Muggle world from the magical one. There was a hint of nervousness in her voice. She turned around and watched her mother push her trolley with her trunk and cage. A large tawny owl sat sleepily on the small perch. The girls' hazel eyes found those of her mother and the woman smiled.

"I spoke to your auntie Ginny this morning, Arista. She said to meet her at the platform and…" her voice trailed off when she discovered dark red hair in the crowd and she took her daughter's arm and pointed. "Look, there's Harry. Seems he's brought someone with him, too!"

"Uncle Teddy! Auntie Andromeda!" Arista cried in happiness and freed herself from her mother's arm and ran across the platform towards the tall blonde haired young man and the dark haired witch at his side. She watched how her daughter was picked up, swung around and giggled like a toddler before wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. Andromeda reached her and kissed her on both cheeks before looking around.

"Hermione, where's Cissy?"

"She should be here shortly. She was just trying to convince Scorpius that setting fire to his school robes really isn't the best way to start your time at Hogwarts," Hermione smiled and her eyes drifted off to Arista and Teddy. A melancholy smile lingered on her lips as she watched Teddy change his hair to the same shade of black as that of her daughter. The family resemblance suddenly became clear. "I can't believe eleven years have gone by. She's grown so much."

Andromeda looked at Arista. "She looks more like her mother every day too."

"Has she gotten on the train yet?" asked an exhausted looking Narcissa as she reached Hermione and her sister. When she discovered Teddy playing with Arista she smiled. "We had better keep her and Scorpius apart. With his talent for setting things on fire and Arista with her mother's temper, they will be a dangerous combination. The train wouldn't even make it out of the station."

"I take it Scorpius is up to his usual antics again?" Hermione asked and brushed a black smudge from Narcissa's cheek. The older woman smiled as she felt Hermione's fingers against her skin. It was something that happened every day and yet every touch felt like a new one, like it was the first time.

"I swear he is a Draco miniature," Narcissa sighed and rolled her eyes. "Astoria is going to have her hands full when he grows older. Draco only got worse as he grew up."

"I heard that, Mother," said a voice behind her and Narcissa looked around. Draco stood behind her, dressed in an immaculate suit as always. A few steps behind him Astoria was attempting to rescue whatever was left of Scorpius' robes. It was as if by magic but Arista turned around and saw Scorpius. She quickly said goodbye to Teddy and ran across towards her best friend. He spun around to meet her and all of those who watched were struck by the differences between them; Scorpius as fair as Arista was dark. They had been friends ever since they could walk and Hermione was often reminded of Harry and Ron when she watched them interact. Arista was far more logical and studious than Scorpius was, much to Astoria's disappointment, but Scorpius had already taught her there was more to the world than books and recently Arista had discovered an interest in Quidditch.

The whistle blew and Hermione hurried over to her daughter. She readjusted her jumper and let her fingers run playfully through Arista's hair. Questioning hazel eyes found those of her mother and Hermione sensed her daughter's hesitation. Hermione pulled her nearer and kissed her on her head. "You can write as often as you like. Every day if you want allright? And remember to do your homework and give Minerva that package I put in your trunk."

"Mom, people will know now, won't they?" asked Arista quietly and she looked up.

"Of course they will," answered Narcissa before Hermione had a chance to say something. "And you have nothing to worry about, my darling. You have some wonderful friends and I am sure that Scorpius would gladly take care of anyone who says something." Her voice trailed off. "What I mean to say is that you, Arista Black, are a miracle. And that's what makes you so special. And it doesn't matter what the world says. Never let them tell you any different."

"I love you, mom," Arista said and wrapped her arms around Narcissa's waist. Her words were genuine and heart felt. Narcissa let the girls' curls run through her fingers like she once used to do with her sister. They were as coarse and thick as those of her mother. The resemblance between them was striking. With every passing year Arista looked more like Bellatrix. Some days, as Narcissa had watched her play in the garden, it was as if she looked back into the past and saw Bellatrix throw stones into the pond.

"We love you too, Arista," Hermione said softly and swallowed hard to force back her tears. The day she had both longed for and dreaded was finally here. Her daughter was off to Hogwarts. The world had gone full circle. The final piece had fallen into place. She hugged her daughter tightly and kissed her on her cheek. "Now, get yourself on that train and find Scorpius and Harry. Don't let Scorpius set your robes on fire and don't allow Harry to feed you anything of which you haven't seen the wrappers first. And if it looks like something you shouldn't eat, then don't put it in your mouth! I swear Ginny should have known better than to make George Harry's godfather."

"I'll write you as soon as the Sorting Ceremony is over," Arista said and she climbed the few steps to board the train and turned her head. Hermione found her own eyes staring at her in anticipation. Her daughter's excitement and fear was palpable. "Slytherin is fine, isn't it?"

"Of course it is," Hermione answered and cocked her head. "I never once told you that one House is better than the other, did I? You have a Slytherin mother _and_ a Gryffindor mother. You could go either way or end up somewhere else altogether. Now, go find yourself somewhere to sit and just enjoy it. Hogwarts is a time you must enjoy."

She and Narcissa watched Arista make her way through the compartment and joined Harry and Scorpius, who were sitting by the nearest window. They were soon joined by Molly and Victoire and it seemed that the whole group had instantly forgotten about the parents watching them from outside. Arista stood out with her black hair. Harry's hair was dark but not as dark as hers. Scorpius was as blonde as his father; Molly was red like her father and Victoire as blonde as her mother. Together they made a wonderful picture of children who were all so different and all so alike. Victoire and Molly were older and Hermione suspected they were now inducting them into Hogwarts' many secrets.

"Look at her," Narcissa whispered as her hand searched for Hermione's. The sun light reflected of their golden wedding bands. "You know she would be proud of her."

"As long as Arista is proud of herself nothing else matters," Hermione said and cast Narcissa a sideways glance. Things had turned out so differently than she had planned. She had never expected to have a child of her own, let alone one that she had together with a notorious Death Eater. Every day she was reminded of Bellatrix. Arista looked almost identical to her mother. She had the same strong Black features, which made that when people saw her and Narcissa together with Arista, they automatically assumed Narcissa was Arista's mother. And Hermione never argued differently. It was easier that way. But Arista knew the truth. And she also knew that now that she was about to take her own steps in the Wizarding world, people would realise who her mother was and Hermione had tried her best to prepare her. She did not want Arista to be ashamed of her heritage, of who she was.

"She will do well," Narcissa sounded confident and felt a chill creep down her spine when the whistle blew again and the train doors closed. Her eyes were drawn to the window. Arista was now standing up and waved. Narcissa swallowed and waved back. Beside her, Hermione felt somewhat forlorn as she too waved at her daughter. Tears glistened in her eyes and slowly the train began to roll out of the station. She watched her daughter disappear, off for her first year at Hogwarts.

"Who would ever have thought," said Ginny behind them and Hermione and Narcissa turned around. Ginny and her husband Tom, a Muggle born wizard whom she had met three years after Harry was born, stood behind them. Their twin daughters Eve and Megan clung on to their parents' hands. Both had inherited Ginny's fiery red hair but their father's blue eyes. They were only five but both were showing signs of magic and in a few years they too would go to Hogwarts. Draco and Astoria strolled down the platform and joined Hermione and Narcissa, followed by Teddy and Andromeda. Teddy had graduated from Hogwarts the way before and was now working at the Ministry. He was a handsome and tall young man with his father's eyes and his mother's nose.

"A whole new start," Hermione sighed and looked at Narcissa. Their relationship had changed in the two years after Arista was born. It had happened almost naturally. One night Narcissa had spent the night and she had never left. They married when Arista was five and as far as the raven haired girl knew Narcissa was as much her mother as Hermione was. But there was a picture on the fireplace, one Narcissa has found in a dusty old box back at Malfoy Manor, of Bellatrix when she was younger. She was sitting under her tree, reading a book. And just as the picture was taken she had looked up and smiled.

They watched the Hogwarts Express disappear into the distance until all that was left was a small black dot against the horizon. Slowly they all made their way back through the barrier and into Muggle London. Ginny and Tom suggested they would all go back to the Burrow and Hermione answered that she and Narcissa would see them there. She wanted to stay at Kings Cross just a little bit longer. Ginny seemed to understand and she and Tom disappeared, followed by Andromeda and Teddy and eventually Draco and Astoria.

"I never told you how proud I am of you," Narcissa said softly and kissed Hermione in her neck. "I still remember when you first showed Arista to me. You were so frightened, so nervous. You said you had no idea how to care for a child and now will you look at her, she has gone off to Hogwarts."

"I did have some help," Hermione winked and looked at Narcissa. Sometimes she still saw Bellatrix in her eyes and she knew Narcissa knew. It was a mutual understanding between them. They both knew that just a fragment of Hermione's heart would always belong to Bellatrix. She had been unable to visit her grave as the Healers had handed her body over to the Ministry. And Hermione finally accepted that perhaps it was better she could not visit her because this way Bellatrix was allowed to fade into a memory.

"She will be just fine out there," Narcissa smiled and Hermione nodded. "With half of your genes and half of Bella's, she'll be a force of nature to be reckoned with. Personally I think it is a good thing Minerva knows her so well."

"All of this because of Bellatrix," Hermione said and peeled back the thin sleeves of her blouse to reveal the silver scars on her forearm. A sad smile lingered on her lips. "All of this because of her."

"Yes," Narcissa said and took Hermione's hands. Her fingertips brushed along the scars like they had done so many times before. Hermione never ceased to amaze her and every day, every morning when she woke beside her, she reminded herself how blessed she was to have her and Arista in her life. And every night, right before she went to bed, she knew Hermione would look at the picture above the fireplace. They both would because Bellatrix was part of them. "All of this because of her."

Hermione glanced at the horizon. The Hogwarts Express was long gone. Out there her child was starting a new chapter of her a life. A life she only had because Bellatrix had sacrificed herself for her. She sighed and then her lips curled up into a smile. She knew it would be all right. Everything had always turned out to be all right.

"Come on, Cissy. Let's go home."

* * *

Fin


End file.
